


These Ties That Bind

by the0dyssey



Series: These Ties That Bind (and Other Collected Works) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Deaf Clint Barton, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Foster Care, Gay Bucky Barnes, Gen, High School, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Principal Nick Fury, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Slow Build, Star Wars References, Teen Angst, Teenagers, minor Sam Wilson/ Maria Hill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 60,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23033197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the0dyssey/pseuds/the0dyssey
Summary: Life's been pretty simple for sixteen year old Bucky Barnes after being freed from abusive parents and  placed into foster care - he gets placed in a new home, runs away, gets found, and placed into a new home. Again and again.But, maybe this time will be different.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: These Ties That Bind (and Other Collected Works) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171223
Comments: 181
Kudos: 273





	1. Renegade (noun): Someone or something that causes trouble and cannot be controlled (unless you ask nicely).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes settles into a new home. Well, he doesn't really settle, and it's not really a home yet.

“I’ve worked with Phil before, placed two sisters with him probably four years ago now,” The social worker said.

Bucky nodded. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about getting another placement, but he was at the mercy of the state for another two years because apparently running away and trying to be self sufficient and independent isn’t an option for a kid in his situation. The social worker braked at the yellow light, causing some of Bucky’s longer hair to fall forward into his face. He sighed, and tried to sweep the rogue pieces behind his ear with his one good hand.

“Maybe he’ll take you for a hair cut,” she said lightheartedly.

“Haha.” His tone was less enthusiastic. He maintained his gaze out the window, watching the clouds drift across the grey, overcast sky. The atmosphere threatened the suburbs of Albany with rain, but there was a chance it could just blow over into the next county.

The social worker glanced at the sulking teen in her passenger seat. Sharon Carter was no stranger to moody teenage boys, but she had a soft spot for Bucky. She’d been his case manager since he’d been placed under state care nearly three years ago.

“I jest,” she said apologetically.

“I know.”

She took a left into a subdivision. The houses were massive, all built with ornate windows and freshly manicured lawns. A few streets in, Sharon parked in front of a two-story red brick house with white painted shutters. The only thing missing was the white picket fence.

“Please give them a chance, Bucky,” she said.

“Yep.” He said back, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis before letting himself out of the car. Bucky swung his backpack over his shoulder and pulled his suitcase out from the trunk. _That’s likely,_ he thought.

“Here, let me,” Sharon reached for his small luggage.

He pulled it away before her fingertips could graze it. “Just because I’m missing an arm doesn’t mean I’m an invalid.” He paused. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“No, its okay. I should’ve asked before just assuming you needed help.”

They both turned at the sound of a front door creaking open. A middle aged man wearing a button up and jeans with glasses emerged. He crossed over the lawn, headed straight towards them.

“Phil!”

“Hi Sharon!” He pulled her in a friendly embrace. “And this must be the young man himself, how are you doing James?”

“I’m okay,” he said. “You can call me Bucky.”

Phil offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” Either Phil didn’t notice the hollow lower left sleeve of Bucky’s hoodie, or he did and just didn’t make it obvious.

Sharon looked to Phil as though to warn him, _this kid has a track record for running away,_ but Phil subtly put his hand up to gesture that he already knew. He’d read Bucky’s file.

“Alright, well if everything’s in order, I’ll be on my way.” Sharon said. Her and Phil shook hands, and she reached to give Bucky a hug. He didn’t back away, but he also didn’t reciprocate more than patting her on the back.

“If you need anything, you have my phone number,” she whispered to him.

He pulled away and nodded. Sharon waved, then ducked back into her car and drove off. Bucky drummed his fingers on the handle of his suitcase, before Phil offered to take him inside.

“Can I take your case?” Phil asked kindlyas they reached the porch steps. Bucky shrugged, and tipped the handle towards him. _At least he asked._ Phil lifted it up, then took to climbing the stairs of the porch and into the front door.

The Coulson household was spacious and tidy, yet felt lived in and comfortable. As Bucky closed the front door behind them, a lanky white cat weaved between his legs.

“Oh, thats Alpine,” Phil said. “He’s sweet, but he can also be a right pain in the ass, so don’t leave water glasses too close to the edge of the counter.” Bucky suppressed a smile and knelt down to pet the cat on top of its head.

“You have a nice house,” he said, standing back up. _Too bad I’m not planning to stay_. He didn’t say that part out loud. In fact, he didn’t bother taking off his shoes either. Not that his red converse had a lick of dirt on them - they were the one thing he actually considered his, so he kept them pristine.

“Thank you,” Phil beamed. “Your room’s up this way.”

Bucky followed him up the stairs, frowning slightly that the railing was only on the left side, leaving only wall on his right. Fat lot of good a left hand rail’s going to do. At least he’ll have it on the way down.

The first room on the left of the upstairs hallway was Bucky’s. Phil didn’t decorate much for him, other than a few comic posters from the Guardians of the Galaxy series he edited a few years back. Bucky looked around at the space. It didn’t feel like his, not that it mattered much to him anyway.

There was a bookshelf across from the bed that stood mostly empty. “I threw a couple of comics on the shelf for you, if you like comics. I get them free from work from time to time.”

Bucky made his way over to the shelf to look. He never took the time to actually read comics, but he appreciated the artwork.

“What do you do? For Work?” He asked, feigning interest.

“I work at a publishing office. I do a lot of clerical work and editing so I get to work a lot from home too.”

“Cool.”

Bucky set his back pack down on the end of the made bed.

“There’s an en-suite bathroom through there,” Phil pointed to another door. “Your closet is in there as well. I have hangers already in there for whenever you unpack and I can take you shopping tomorrow to get anything else you need.”

Bucky nodded. He continued looking around the room, glancing past the window a few times. He didn’t want to make his fixation apparent - for obvious reasons - but relief washed over him when he saw there was a part of the roof that extended out five feet under his window. Jumping from a second story was not an activity he enjoyed, but one he was prepared to do.

“Sharon said something about two girls living here?” Bucky asked, resting up against the corner of the desk.

“Yes, Natasha and Yelena. Their rooms are down the hall,” Phil said. He checked his watch. “They’re both at school, but they’ll be home within the hour.” Phil continued. “Come on, I’ll show you around the rest of the house.”

Out in the hall, he pointed to the next three doors down from Bucky’s, “That’s Nat’s room, mine is at the end of the hall, and that’s Yelena’s over there. There’s also a linen closet over there too, so you can stock up your own closet with fresh towels whenever you need.”

“Okay.”

They went down stairs, where Phil showed him the dining room, kitchen, and living room.

“I’m really big on cooking dinner, so I ask that you come down to the table and eat with the rest of us, unless you’re at a friends house or a school function.”

“Alright,” Bucky agreed. _Friends? School? That’s not likely either._

“We also have a ton of books and movies and board games, both up here and and in the basement,” Phil said. “So feel free to help yourself if you see something that piques your interest.”

Phil showed him around the rest of the house. Bucky walked around in a state of awe - none of his previous placements had been this nice. He stalled in the hallway, looking at a series of framed photographs that were hung on the wall. There were a few of Phil and an Asian woman with two smiling kids. Others were of a red head and a younger looking blonde, who he assumed were the two girls he’d also be living with.

“Who are they?” He asked.

“Ah, yeah,” Phil crossed his arms and leaned up against the opposite wall. “That one there, that was my wife and my two kids.”

_Oh no_ , Bucky thought. _If he was married and had kids, but they don’t live here, that’s not a good sign._

“They passed away six years ago, all three of them,” he said softly. “My wife’s name was Melinda, and my son and daughter, Jemma and Leo.”

Bucky was taken aback. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Coulson.”

“Please, Phil’s fine,” he said with a smile. “And thank you. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss them. After their accident, I couldn’t stand staying in Boston, so I packed up and left. Moved here, found a new job, bought a house, and started rebuilding.” He gestured for Bucky to follow him into the living room.

“About a year after I settled in, I realized how much I hated having an empty house, so I looked into fostering kids. Natasha and Yelena were my first, and we really clicked,” he smiled reminiscently. “I formally adopted them almost three years ago now.”

Bucky sat back on the couch after Phil relaxed in his arm chair.“Natasha’s about your age, and Yelena is two years younger. I’ll take you over to the school on Friday and get you enrolled so you can start on Monday.”

Bucky’s demeanor changed, but Phil caught on.

“I know starting at a new school is rough.”

“Nah, seven schools in two years - that’s just peachy,” Bucky chided.

“I think I should make my intentions clear, Bucky,” Phil said kindly. “I would like for this to be your final placement. No more moving, no more hoops, no more group homes.”

Bucky raised his eye brow, not believing what Phil was saying. He’d heard it all before, and yet he still moved. Again and again. He wouldn't bet any money on being adopted either. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to be. All he did know was that he’d rather be on his own, free to be himself without the judgement of adults.

“This is your home now too, Bucky.”

Before Phil could continue, the sound of a key entering the lock of the front door drew their attention away from the conversation. Bucky was grateful for the interruption - the more he was getting to know Phil, the harder it was going to be to leave.

The door opened, and two girls, who Bucky presumed were Natasha and Yelena, entered. Phil got up to greet them with a hug.“How was school today girls?”

“It was fine,” the blonde said.

“My day would’ve been better if Doctor Foster curved my physics test but..” The red head trailed off as she caught sight of Bucky. She dropped her school bag to the floor and approached Bucky with her arms out stretched. She greeted him with a chaste embrace.

“Hi, I’m Natasha,” she smiled.

“Bucky,”

“This is my sister, Yelena.”

Yelena came over and held her hand out for a fist bump. “I’m not a hugger like Nat and Phil,” she laughed. Bucky forced a smile. It was at this moment that Bucky realized that was the tallest in the room. It was ironic how he felt like the smallest, though.

“Well, I’m going to start cooking dinner. How does meatloaf sound?”

“Only if you’ll make mashed potatoes too,” Nat said. Yelena agreed.

“Only if you want to help make them,” Phil replied.

“Fine with me, let me throw my bag upstairs.” Nat ran up the stairs taking them two at a time.

Phil turned to Bucky. “Meatloaf good with you?”

He shrugged, indifferent. “I’m not picky.”

“Alright, well you’re more than welcome to make yourself at home. I’ll holler when food’s ready.”

“Thanks.” Bucky turned to go back upstairs to his room, taking them one step at a time. He didn’t feel like tripping and falling.

***

It was warm in Bucky’s room. He paced around, not bothering to unpack at all. He decided to pull off his hoodie. He caught sight of himself in the mirror that was perched on top of the dresser. The clean incision from where the doctors took his forearm and hand was just visible from out of the sleeve of his raglan t-shirt.

He leaned up against the dresser, looking at himself closely. He really did need a hair cut. The longer it got, the harder it was for him to manage one handed. God, he hardly recognized himself. In the last few months alone, he shed another layer of baby fat, leaving him with a sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones. His eyes were the same though - blue and tired. Then he had enough of looking at himself.

Bucky took to rooting around in his backpack for his phone, which was wrapped in his earbuds. Untangling them was a bit of a challenge, but made laying back in bed with the Gorillaz pumping through to his ears all the more rewarding.

Time became difficult to keep track of. Song after song, Bucky stared up at the ceiling contemplating his plan for the night. Then suddenly he wasn’t looking at the ceiling anymore, but a pair of piercing green eyes framed by auburn hair. His immediate reaction was to grab for his hoodie and yank it over his head to cover his arm after pulling out his headphones

“Whoa dude, no judgement,” Natasha raised her hands in mock surrender. “Dinner’s ready.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pocketed his phone. He ran his fingers through his hair before following her downstairs. Hues of subdued purples and blues settled in through the window as night began to fall.

“This seat’s open.” Yelena pulled a chair out for him.

“Thanks.” Bucky sat down awkwardly. The rest of them settled around the table, Natasha and Yelena on either side of him, and Phil straight ahead. “You guys don’t say grace or anything do you?” He asked.

“We don’t usually, no,” Phil said. “Unless you wanted to.”

“No,” he said very quickly. “I’m good.”

“Okay then,” Phil chuckled at his easy response. “Dig in.”

They all took turns reaching over plates. There was plenty of food, which Bucky wasn’t used to. In previous homes, there would’ve been barely enough to go around. Here, there were bound to be left overs.

“So I thought we could all talk about house rules while we’re all sitting together,” Phil said between bites. “I’m pretty lax about things like curfew, as long as there’s trust and communication. I would like to know if you’re leaving the house and where you’re going, just as a courtesy thing though.”

Bucky nodded.

“School is an every day thing, once you’re enrolled of course, unless your ill or need a mental break day. Communication, again, is key.”

“Communication is key, got it,” Bucky echoed.

“And the dinner thing, like I mentioned earlier,” Phil paused. “That’s pretty much it here. Of course outside laws apply too, so no drinking or smoking or illegal drug use.”

“Not a problem.”

“Good.”

Phil and the girls carried on a conversation, talking about their day at school in greater detail. Bucky sat half listening while eating. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hungry, and the lack of food on his plate after ten minutes was a testament to that.

“So Bucky,” Natasha started. “Where were you from?”

“Uh, I’m from Tully - small town outside of Syracuse.”

“Cool. Do you have any hobbies?”

He sat and thought for a moment. “I like to sketch sometimes. I used to play guitar, but..” He trailed off, suddenly anxious. He shouldn’t have said so much. He doesn’t need to connect with these people. They don’t need to get to know him. “Do you have a sink or a dishwasher where I could put this?” He stood up with his bare plate.

“Yeah, right in the kitchen,” Phil said. “You can leave it on the counter by the sink and I’ll take care of it.”

He followed Phil’s direction, and left his dirty silverware and plate to the right of the double sided sink.

“Hey Bucky, we’re having movie night while we work on homework, wanna join us?” Yelena asked, missing the uneasy flicker in Bucky’s eyes.

He jammed his good hand into the front pocket of his hoodie. “No thanks, I think I’m just going to hangout upstairs, if that’s okay.” He looked to Phil, who nodded.

On his way up the stairs, he called out, “Thanks for dinner.”

He waited for a couple minutes before moving over to the window, wanting to make sure he couldn’t hear any footsteps coming up the stairs. The locking mechanism was basic, making it easy to open and close without making a sound. September air carried the fragrance of local bonfires and crisp leaves inside, which made Bucky’s stomach flip in anticipation. Freedom was one climb away, and he was determined not to get caught this time.

He opted to leave the small suitcase behind. It was only full of clothes he didn’t really care for, and that weren’t even truly his. He pulled the straps of his backpack over his shoulders and shimmed his way through the widely opened window as quietly as he could. His height, which he was grateful for for this exact reason, made it easy for him to slip down from the window sill onto the roof below without a clatter. He slid down the roof carefully and landed on the side of the house.

The lack of fencing made for an anti-climatic exit from the backyard, but before he reached the driveway, an unfamiliar voice called out to him.

“Hey!”

He turned.

“Yeah, you!” Bucky saw the silhouette of a boy jump over the porch railing at the next house over. “You must be Bucky. I’m Clint.”

Bucky noticed how the boy sounded either mildly congested, or as though he had a faint accent.

Clint kept going: “I’m Nat’s, uh, friend. She told me you were moving in today.”

“What else did she tell you?” Bucky asked curiously.

The kid shrugged. “Nothing really. You know what - I’ve got a couple of friends over, you should come and hang out. We’re just playing video games and eating a bunch of junk food while my parents are out.”

Bucky cursed his luck. Of course he would run into people on his way out. Par for the course. He tried to come up with an excuse. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude…”

“No seriously, it’s fine, the more the merrier.”

Bucky weighed his options. If he declined, he was sure that this guy would go running to Phil about his attempted _escape_ and he’d be back to square one, since it wasn’t hard to figure out what he was planning. There’s not much to do in a quiet New York suburb after sundown, especially with a bag strewn over your shoulder.

“I guess, yeah.”

“Okay great! Come on.”

Clint led him across the long yard and up the porch and into his house. Bucky followed Clint’s lead in kicking off his shoes by the front door, and then also decided that it would probably be a good place to drop his bag off too. From another room, he could over hear a muffled medley of whoops, hollers, and laughter.

“The den’s this way.” Clint turned down the hallway and opened a doorway leading to a flight of stairs going down.

In the finished basement, two guys were reclining in Clint’s gaming chairs with controllers in their hands, engaging in a competitive Smash Brothers race. Another was sitting, legs crossed at the ankles, on a two person couch a few feet behind them.

Clint cleared his throat, which caused all three to turn their heads. “Bucky, that’s Tony, and that’s Sam,” he pointed to the two who had just paused their game. “And that’s Steve,” he gestured to the one on the couch. “Everyone, this is Bucky. He just moved in over at Nat’s.”

_Oh man._ Bucky swallowed hard and choked out a meek ‘hello.’ He’d never seen a guy like Steve before - blue eyes like the ocean, blonde hair swept back effortlessly, and that _smile._ But he had to look away, his lingering gaze was bordering on awkwardness.

“Do you want to play?” Sam asked Bucky, reaching into the bowl of chips. Clint plopped down on the floor between Tony and Sam and picked up his own controller.

“Is the controller two handed?” He asked.

Sam held his up. It was.

“Um, I’ll pass, thanks though.” Bucky twisted the left sleeve of his hoodie absentmindedly, hoping they would catch his drift and he wouldn’t have to say out loud _I’m missing my hand and a good part of my forearm._ It wasn’t a story he liked telling. Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky could see Steve and Tony exchanging looks.

“Alright man, that’s cool,” Sam turned back to his game. “You guys ready to lose?”

“Can it Wilson,” Tony said. “You only won last time because I spilled my soda in my lap and you didn’t want to pause the game.”

“You know what that sounds like to me Stark? A sore loser,” Sam laughed.

Bucky stood awkwardly off to the side, just watching. Clint joined in the game, splitting the screen into three parts.

“Hey Bucky, you can come sit by me.” Steve patted the open space on the couch next to him.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. He hoped that his legs wouldn’t buckle underneath him on his short jaunt over. _Make a good impression. Make a good impression. Make a good impression._ Oh how he wished he had a breath mint.

Steve and Bucky ended up talking for what felt like hours as Clint, Tony, and Sam kept playing rounds of their game. He found out that Steve also liked to draw, and that he ran on the cross country team. Bucky didn’t have much to share, but when he did speak, Steve perked up. He could’ve listened to Bucky talk all day.

A flash of light from Clint’s chair alerted him to a text from his parents, who were out on ‘date night.’

“Hey guys, my parents will be back in a half hour or so, so we should probably clean up.”

Bucky looked at Steve, confused. He leaned over and explained, “Clint’s hard of hearing, so his phone flashes instead of making noise when he gets a notification.”

Tony sighed, and then reached over and turned off the game console. “Hey Steve, I think I left my keys in your room, can you check? I’m going to run the pizza boxes from earlier up to the recycling bin.”

“Yeah,” Steve stood and pulled up the waistband of his jeans. He turned to Bucky, “Wanna come with?”

Bucky got up. “Sure.”

Steve twisted the knob and pulled open the door that was next to the landing of the stairs, then reached for the light switch. After flipping it, his room lit up.

“So Clint’s your brother?” Bucky asked, trying to connect the dots.

Steve chuckled. “No, but I do live in his basement. It’s an unorthodox situation.”

“You’re telling me.”

Steve started looking around for Tony’s keys. “My mom’s down with terminal cancer. She’s living in hospice care in the city, so instead of having to move across the country with relatives I’ve never met, Clint’s family stepped in and offered me a place to stay. We’ve been friends since kindergarten so I’ve always felt at home here.”

Bucky didn’t want to ask, but his curiosity got the better of him. “What about your dad?”

Steve pointed to a framed American flag that rested on a shelf. “Died before I was born. He was in the military. Training exercise went wrong, I guess.”

“I’m sorry man.”

“Got ‘em,” Steve wrapped Tony’s keys and lanyard up in his hand. “It’s okay. Things could be worse.”

Yeah they could. Bucky knew all about that.

They regrouped upstairs after all of the food and gaming equipment was put away. Bucky even lent a hand in helping, even though he didn't eat or play. Sam called shotgun in Tony’s SUV. They bantered all the way down the drive way. Bits like - “You can’t call shotgun if your the only other person in the car!” and “Too bad, I just did.”

Bucky spoke up after they watched them pull out of the driveway. “I better get going too.”

Steve and Clint exchanged a look.

“Why don’t I walk you back?” Steve suggested.

“If you want to, that’s fine,” Bucky said, reaching down for his shoes and bag.

Steve didn’t bother putting on shoes, so he ambled across the expansive sod yard barefoot.“Do you have a phone?” He asked Bucky.

“Um yeah, why?”

“Can I see it? I want to put my phone number in.” Steve quickly added, “Only if you want.”

Bucky grabbed his phone out of his pocket and handed it over, trying not to seem too overeager. They stopped in between the border of the two yards. Steve typed in his digits and took a quick selfie so his new contact had a picture to go with it. They continued on their way, walking side by side. Their knuckles even grazed, and Bucky thought he was going to melt right there.

Up on the porch, Bucky hesitated for a moment before knocking. It was Natasha that opened the door. She smiled, then called for Phil.

“Hey Steve, Bucky,” Phil greeted them.

“Hi Mr. Coulson,” Steve replied. Bucky didn’t say anything. He just stood with his hand in his pocket, looking towards the ground.

“I best get back, I have a race tomorrow,” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Good night everyone.” He smiled and Bucky could’ve sworn he saw him wink at him as he turned away.

“Come on in kiddo.” Phil moved from the doorway. Bucky walked in past him and mumbled a quick, “‘m sorry,” before dragging himself up the stairs. Phil locked the door with a _click_ and followed after him.

Back upstairs, Bucky had already dropped his bag and was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, preparing himself for what he thought was going to be an another angry foster parent. Instead, Phil came in and sat in the desk chair, putting himself at Bucky’s level, or maybe even a little lower.

“Thank you for coming back. I know that probably wasn’t an easy choice to make.”

“Mhmm.”

“You should know that there are silent alarms on the windows, so I know if they open past a certain point.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Then why didn’t you call the cops?”

“I had Nat call Clint instead, less sirens and paperwork that way. And I knew the boys were over, so I thought it might be a good idea for you to have an opportunity to hang out with other guys your age.”

“Huh.” That’s not the explanation Bucky was expecting at all.

“Can I ask why you wanted to leave?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, maintaining eye contact.

Phil didn’t push. Instead he got up to leave.

“You’re not mad?” Bucky asked in disbelief.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’ know, I ate your food and then I left without telling you,” he said. “People’ve gotten mad before.”

“Personally, I don’t think anger looks good on me,” Phil joked. “I understand that moving is difficult, and that you’ve probably had some not so great experiences, but I just want you to know that I’m here for you - whatever you need.”

Bucky forced a smile. “How far can the window open before its a problem? I like having a breeze.”

“About half way. Goodnight kid,” Phil smiled again, then closed the door behind him.

It was weird to Bucky - having a room to himself. The last foster home he stayed at, he had to share with another boy. And the group home before that, with four others. The privacy was nice. Then he remembered what Phil said about the bathroom being connected. He opened the door and turned on the lights. This too was nicer than the communal bathrooms he had to use before.

It took him a minute to figure out how to turn on the water by himself, since he didn’t want to bother Phil anymore than he already thought he had, and while he was waiting for the shower to heat up, he decided to text Steve.

**B: Hey Steve, it’s Bucky.**

He then hopped in and took a quick shower, using the mini shampoo and body wash he assumed Phil left for him. After towel drying himself off and gathering his dirty clothes, he changed into a pair of sweats and a shirt from the small case and checked his phone.

**S: Hey!**

**S: I forgot to ask you earlier but have you ever been to Skippy’s?**

**S: Wait, no, probably not since you said you weren’t from around here..**

Bucky typed back, curious.

**B: Skippy’s?**

Steve responded immediately.

**S: It’s a local deli/ market/ cafe. Idk how to describe it really, but it has killer sandwiches**

**and coffee. Best in town I think**

**S: Would you want to go sometime?**

His heart skipped a beat, but he stifled his excitement. He didn’t even know if Steve meant it as a date, or was just being friendly. Either were a possibility in Bucky’s mind, although he was really hoping it was something more than just friendship Steve was after.

**B: Yeah! Sounds like fun**

**B: I’d have to ask Phil though. When?**

**S: I would say tomorrow but I have cross country after school. What about Friday?**

**B: I’ll let you know**

**S: I’m looking forward to it. Goodnight Buck :)**

Bucky smiled at the new nickname of his nickname.

**B: Goodnight Steve :)**

As he unpacked his phone charger and plugged in his phone, Bucky thought maybe this place wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Maybe he would give it a chance.


	2. The Home of the Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets the grand tour of Albany North Pointe High School.

“So.. last night,” Tony said. He, Clint, and Sam circled around Steve at his locker before first hour.

“What about it?” Steve asked, closing his locker after pulling his physics textbook into his arms.

“New friend, or…?” Sam winked. Steve’s cheeks immediately flushed red.

“Guys come on,” he said. “Nothing’s going on, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then who were you texting all last night?” Clint butted in. The group turned to look at him, wanting to know more. “We were sitting in the living room waiting for my parents to get home and he’s over on the couch all smiley and on his phone.”

Sam jokingly pushed Steve’s shoulder into his locker, “Uh huh, nothing’s going on.”

“Okay, okay, fine, now shush.” Steve could feel heat radiating off his face as the group started walking down the hall. “We did text last night, but only a little. We’re going to Skippy’s after school tomorrow I think.”

“Ooo get it man!” Sam said.

“Come on now, I don’t even know if he swings that way.”

“I’m not even going to pretend to be an expert, but if I saw a guy looking at me the way he was looking at you last night - I don’t know - I’d think there’s something going on,” Tony interjected. The other three agreed, which made Steve’s stomach fill with butterflies.

Throughout his day at school, Steve found it hard to concentrate on any of his subjects. His mind kept drifting back to the night before and the cute boy who sat next to him on the couch.

***

The first thing Bucky was when he woke up was confused. It took a moment for him to remember and acclimate to his new surroundings, then relished in the comfort of his new bed. _His bed. He could get used to this. Maybe._

Despite how comfortable he was, Bucky decided it would probably be best to get up and moving. He wondered if Phil had any coffee.

He pulled on the same pair of black ripped jeans he had on yesterday and grabbed a clean navy long sleeve shirt from his bag and as he pulled it over his head, he folded the left sleeve into a neat cuff. He had to do a double take in the mirror - his hair actually had a slight wave to it, unlike the way it usually fell straight. It was probably the new shampoo, and he didn’t mind.

Down the stairs, he was greeted by a white blur. Alpine head-butted Bucky right in the shins, then backed away a bit disorientated. He picked up the wayward cat and pet it between the ears.

“I think he likes you,” Phil said, looking on from the kitchen. “He’s usually not so forward with people.”

Bucky genuinely smiled. He liked cats. “‘Morning Phil.”

“Good morning kid. Want something to eat?”

He shook his head; he never was one for breakfast. “Do you have coffee?”

“Yeah, let me put on a fresh pot.”

Bucky followed Phil into the kitchen, and sat down at the table. Alpine curled up in Bucky’s lap and rested his head in the crook of his left elbow.

Bucky was waiting for it. He was waiting for Phil to raise his voice, or his hand, or to demand him to talk about his past or why he was going to run last night. And he kept waiting, but it never came. Instead, Phil talked about shopping.

“Nat and Elle are at school, so its just us today. Are you down to run some errands with me?” He asked.

“I guess, yeah.”

“We can stop by Target so you can pick out a couple of outfits and whatever else you need,” Phil suggested. “And then we have to stop by the doctor’s office because you need a physical for school.”

_School. Damn._

“No one’s gonna follow me around school, right?”

“Follow you?” Phil questioned.

“Yeah at my last school they paired me up with a teacher’s aide or something,” Bucky said, growing embarrassed. “Said I was a flight risk.”

“Are you going to be?” Phil asked. Bucky thought for a moment, fighting his default response of escapism.The longer he stalled his response, the more tension built in the room.

“No.” He finally decided.

“Good, I’m glad.” The tension dissipated as Phil smiled. Bucky noticed that Phil smiled a lot. Not fake ones either - real, genuine, tangible happiness. He hoped that maybe, _just maybe_ , he could achieve that here too.

“Is there anything else you want to do today?” Phil asked.

“Can I think about it?” Bucky wasn’t used to all of the autonomy that was being suddenly thrust upon him. He wasn’t overwhelmed, but it was still a lot to take in. This whole situation was a lot to take in. Even more - he was starting to trust Phil. _Maybe_. Everything was still too new to tell.

“Sure. Are you ready to get going?”

Bucky shrugged. As if he could understand that Phil was ready to go, and that Bucky was going with him, Alpine stretched and leapt out of Bucky’s arms.

A few minutes later - and after lacing up his red sneakers - Bucky was sitting in the passenger seat of Phil’s car. The eucalyptus smelling car freshener tickled his nose until he got used to it. Phil ducked into the car and handed Bucky a stainless steel coffee cup before dropping his own into the cup holder.

“I don’t know how you take it, so I left it black. I hope that’s okay,” Phil said.

“Yeah that’s fine, I’m used to drinking it without adding anything extra.” Bucky took a sip. The coffee was good, sweet on its own and full of robust flavors. “I take it this isn’t the generic stuff.”

Phil started backing out of the garage. “No, its from a place called Skippy’s.”

“Oh, don’t they have the best coffee in town or something?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Steve told me, when I was over at his place last night,” Bucky admitted.

Phil chuckled. “That boy drinks more coffee than what’s good for him, especially for being a runner.”

“He actually asked me if I wanted to go there with him, tomorrow after he gets out of school,” Bucky said. “Would that be okay?”

“I don’t see why not. Remind me to get cash back at the store for you.”

Another smile from Bucky.“Thank you.”

He took his phone out from his pocket and opened to his and Steve’s text message thread from last night.

**B: Hey, Phil said I could go tomorrow, if you still wanted to**

**S: That’s great! I’m excited :)**

**B: Me too**

**B::)**

Bucky looked at the time. It was 9:30.

**B: Wait, aren’t you at school right now?**

**S: Yeah, but teachers here are pretty chill about phones and stuff**

**B: That’s cool**

**S: Yeah**

**S: We’re about to start reading in class, I gtg**

**S: I’ll text you later**

**B: Okay**

He sat back in his seat, feeling all sorts of excited.

“So there was something else I wanted to talk to you about, now that it’s just us,” Phil said.

_Oh geez. He waited until we’re driving in the car and I don’t have an out._ Bucky tensed up.

“It’s nothing bad,” Phil started, taking note of Bucky’s increased fidgeting. “I just wanted to bring it up since it’s just the two of us. I don’t want you to think I’m cornering you though, so if you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll respect that.”

“What is it?” Bucky asked, trying to sound like he wasn’t nervous.

“Now it’s okay if you don’t want to do it. Nat, Elle, and I all see a therapist. Separately of course. I was wondering if that’s something you’d be interested in doing.”

“You want me to talk to a shrink?”

“Only if you want to,” Phil said. He was glad that Bucky didn’t shut him down yet.

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve already been. Mandatory trauma counseling after this happened,” he raised what was left of his left arm.

“Do you think it would be something you’d be interested in doing again?” Phil asked, merging onto the main road out of the subdivision.

He shrugged again. “Maybe.” Bucky’s knee-jerk reaction would’ve been to deflect it, but then he realized that Phil has his baggage too.

“Can I ask you another thing?” Phil inquired.

“I guess.”

“Is going without your prosthetic a choice?”

Bucky furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Maybe it doesn’t fit properly, or —

“No, it fits fine. It just doesn’t do anything. It’s not one of those fancy Myoelectric ones.” He felt his cheeks going red. “I just have more mobility without it I guess - free of the dead weight.” He followed up quickly with, “‘Don’t wanna talk about it though.”

“That’s okay.” Phil didn’t ask anymore. “Thank you for being honest.”

The ride to Target was quick, and quiet. Phil turned on the radio - Bucky was so grateful it wasn’t country music - and they were at the store in about ten minutes.

Shopping went smoother than Phil expected. Bucky felt bad about Phil spending money on him, but Phil insisted that A) He had more than enough money to go around, and B) He enjoyed shopping. (Also, though Phil wouldn’t admit it to him, Bucky reminded him of Leo and how much he missed having a son.) They ended up walking out with four bags of clothes, another two of snack foods and drinks that Bucky liked, two more of school supplies he was going to need in the next week, and one of soaps and razors and other personal hygiene things he needed.

The next stop was the doctor’s office. What Phil failed to tell Bucky was that their primary care physician’s office was actually located in a hospital in the city. The ride there was longer that the ride to the store, maybe by only twenty minutes, but once they pulled in from of Albany Metro General Bucky felt like he was moving in slow motion. He hadn’t been to a hospital since he was discharged after the incident. His jaw was tight, and his shoulders held tension he wasn’t aware he was carrying.

Phil drove up into the parking garage. Bucky swallowed back the sour tasting memories he associated with hospitals and willed himself out of the car. He plastered a stoic look on his face, and followed Phil inside.

“Doctor Cho is really great, I’ve been her patient since I moved here,” Phil said.

“Hmm,” Bucky acknowledged. He fixed the cuff of his left shirt sleeve so it wasn’t hanging so low.

Cho’s practice was on the sixth floor of the hospital. Getting inside the daunting building placated Bucky’s growing anxiety - the interior was very different compared to Syracuse Memorial - and he thought more of his upcoming coffee date _(wait, it is a date?)_ than of his upcoming appointment.

The receptionist at the desk in the office was pleasant. She checked Bucky in, and had him and Phil sit in the lobby. No sooner than five minutes later Bucky was called back. He stood up, then noticed that Phil stayed seated.

“Are you going to come with?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

Phil looked up, “Do you want me to?”

It was in that moment that Bucky finally decided he did trust Phil. Enough. “Yes, please.”

They walked back to the exam room, where the nurse took his vital signs. She even asked him if he was feeling well since his blood pressure was elevated. He just said he was nervous. She patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, then said Doctor Cho would be in shortly, and left the room.

Bucky, who was sitting at the end of the exam table, kicked his feet from side to side. “Thank you for coming with.”

“It’s no problem,” Phil said. “I didn’t want to intrude or make you feel pressured to include me, which is why I didn’t get up when your name was called.”

“I just, I’ve never done doctors appointments by myself. Someone’s always been with me.”

Phil nodded. “I understand.”

Their conversation was cut short by a chaste knock at the door. A short woman with her long black hair tucked back in a ponytail came in, holding a laptop to her chest.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Cho.” She held her hand out to Bucky. “You must be James. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Call me Bucky, please, and its nice to meet you too.”

She sat down in the rolling chair next to the exam table and opened her laptop. “Looks like we’re just filling out some school paperwork and doing a general physical, is that right?”

Bucky looked to Phil, who nodded.

Overall, the appointment lasted around twenty minutes. To Bucky’s relief, it wasn’t at all invasive. Doctor Cho asked a few general questions and conducted a brief exam. Within the hour, Bucky and Phil walked away with his clean bill of health, completed school forms, and a referral to see a doctor that Cho recommended - a neurologist and prosthetist called Stephen Strange. She said it was for whenever Bucky was ready to consider other options. No pressure.

“Man, I should tell Natasha to get gas on her way home from school,” Phil said as they passed the gas station. The prices were the lowest they had been in months.

“She drives?” Bucky asked. He wasn’t used to hearing about foster parents letting their foster children drive. But then he remembered that Natasha was adopted, and no longer a foster kid. Lucky her.

Phil nodded. “Have you ever driven?”

“Once in a drivers ed class,” Bucky said. “Got pulled out before I could finish the semester though. Foster fam said it wasn’t a good fit.” He chuckled, “I guess the angsty teen with a tragic backstory didn’t jive with their aesthetic.”

Phil looked at him sympathetically. “You don’t have to worry about that happening here.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“I just have a feeling.”

The rest of the ride was quiet again, save for the radio. Bucky took to raking his fingers through his hair. “You said earlier to let you know if there’s anything else I wanted to do today?” Bucky asked timidly.

“Yea, have something in mind?”

“Can I please get a hair cut?”

***

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bucky could see pieces of his hair that littered the ground in a near perfect circle around the base of the salon chair. He was facing away from the mirror as the hair stylist finished trimming a few stray strands around the back of his neck.

“Alright, here you go.” She turned his chair around so that he could see himself in the mirror, and _wow_. He looked so different. His hair was drastically shorter on the sides and in the back, but was longer and fluffier looking on top. It no longer shadowed his face, and for a moment, he actually began to feel proud about the way he looked.

The stylist unclipped the cape from the back of his neck and asked him what he thought. He was speechless.

After Phil paid the bill at the front desk and they were walking back out to the car, he clapped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder. He only flinched mildly upon the impact, but settled.

“You look like a whole new person kid,” Phil said.

“Feel like one too.” He paused, then looked up at Phil. “Thank you.”

Both Nat and Yelena were home from school before the two guys retuned. They gladly helped Bucky carry all of the bags up to his room, but didn’t stick around to overwhelm him. Both, too, were pleasant around Bucky - which he wasn’t used to. The last siblings he lived with were anything but congenial.

He took his time putting everything away. The hours passed quickly, and before he knew it Nat was knocking on his door letting him know dinner was ready. It was tacos tonight.

“Hey,” Nat stopped him in the hallway. “I’m sorry about last night, at dinner. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky said. “I should actually be the one to apologize.”

“We’ve all been there,” Yelena said, poking her head out of her bedroom.

“Still, you all have been nothing but nice to me and I, well, I didn’t appreciate it like I should’ve. I wasn’t going to wait around for the other shoe to drop or for the punches to start rolling in,” Bucky said, looking down.

“That won’t happen here, you know?” Nat said softly. “Phil saying it’s one thing, but from both of us, he’s never laid a malicious hand on either of us.” Yelena nodded to agree.

“Kids, are you coming? Food’s getting cold!” Phil called.

The three filed down the stairs. With every step, Bucky felt lighter. _He was going to be okay._

_***_

The next morning, all four individuals in the Coulson/Romanoff/Belova/Barnes house were scrambling to get ready for school. At dinner, Phil discussed how Bucky would be going in today to take some placement tests, get his class schedule, tour the school, and meet his teachers. All very nerve-wracking for him, but he was excited too.

He also found out that Natasha and Yelena weren’t sisters by blood, but refused to be separated in the system before they were placed with Phil. They didn’t talk about the circumstances that brought them together or to Phil, but Bucky didn’t feel like he needed to know. He wasn’t ready to share his story yet either. However, he was eager to talk with Steve after school. They’d texted back and forth a bit the night before, but Steve had a cross country race which limited his screen time.

Phil insisted that Nat drive Yelena and Bucky, and that he’d follow, so Bucky sat in the back seat of Natasha’s red SUV.

“Give me your phone,” Yelena said reaching back to Bucky. “I’m gonna put Phil’s, Nat’s, and my number in so you can contact us later since we’re driving you home too, I think.”

Bucky unlocked his phone and opened to the contacts app before handing it up to her.

Natasha reversed out of the driveway first and pressed on the gas leaving Phil’s grey sedan in their wake. Bucky white knuckled the _oh shit_ handle on the door.

“So, is there anything you want to ask us now that its _just_ us?” Natasha said, glancing at him through the rear view mirror.

“Yeah, are you sure you can drive?!” He exclaimed, still hanging onto the door for dear life as she took another fast curve.

“Haha, very funny,” Nat rebuked.

“We’re taking the scenic route this morning, so we need to get a head start,” Yelena explained.

The scenic route ended up being the Starbucks drive thru - Natasha’s treat.

“Ah, the most important meal of the day,” Yelena said as she slurped down her iced vanilla latte. “Coffee.”

“Cheers to that,” Natasha added.

“So you guys like your coffee, huh,” Bucky said. Both girls nodded. “The last group home I was at had the worst coffee. I used to get in trouble just to get sent to my SW’s office since she let me use her Keurig.”

His tone was lighthearted, so the girls deemed it safe to chuckle. Bucky even joined in. Never in a million years did he think he would ever be comfortable sharing that.

“We would’ve gone to Skippy’s but they don’t have a drive thru and we’re already short on time.” Nat said. “Also since you’re going there with Steve later, I didn’t want to spoil it for you.”

“Wait, how did you know about that?” Bucky asked. He definitely didn’t tell either of them, and he didn’t peg Phil to be the type to gossip.

“Steve kept going on about it all afternoon yesterday,” Nat said, smiling. “He was really excited that you said you could go.”

Bucky’s stomach flipped, and he felt himself blushing. _Steve was excited?? Yes!_

“Aw, you guys are going to be so cute together, I just feel it!” Yelena said. Natasha reached over and smacked her arm.

That really caught him off guard. _Together? What did she mean by that?_

“What time does school start?” Bucky looked at the clock in an attempt to change the subject. It read 7:42.

“Eight usually,” Yelena said. “But we’re walking you to the main office to meet Phil so we’re getting there five minutes early. Hopefully they’ll write us a pass - If I get one more tardy this semester I have to serve a detention.”

“Yel, its September, school only started four weeks ago, how do you already have two tardies?” Nat asked.

Yelena shrugged.

And they just barely made it in time. At 7:54, after Nat put the car in park, they all got out and sped-walked inside. Phil was already in the front office waiting for them.The secretary handed both girls a slip of purple paper, to which Yelena and Natasha high five-d each other, then headed towards their classes.

“You must be Mr. Barnes,” A middle aged looking man with glasses emerged from an office to his left. “I’m Principal Fury. Welcome to North Pointe High, home of the Avengers.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Bucky said.

“Here come in come in,” he waved Bucky into the conference room. “How are you doing, Mr. Coulson?”

“I’m well, thank you,” Phil said before turning to Bucky. “I have to head to the office this morning. I’m sure Nat told you that she’s going to drive you all home later, but I don’t know what your plans are for after school, so I’m flexible.”

“Yeah.”

“Here’s some pocket money. I’ll see you later, have a good day,” Phil departed with a smile.

“Thank you, you too.”

Bucky followed the

Principal into the room. On the long table was a short stack of papers and three sharpened pencils.

“So Mr. Barnes..”

“Please call me Bucky. Mr. Barnes was my dad and I’m not him.” _God, do you ever shut up? Now you’re the kid with daddy issues. Great._

However, the Principal wasn’t fazed by what Bucky said. Instead he replied pleasantly, “Bucky it is, then.”

He continued to explain the various placement tests Bucky was going to take, citing his unorthodox education over the past few years as the reason why they were necessary. Bucky sat down at the long conference table and got to work.

He breezed through the science, history, and math exams - those subjects had always come easy to him. English was a bit more challenging, but didn’t make him break a sweat. Remembering all the ins and outs of grammar wasn’t high on his list of priorities while bouncing around from home to home. Nevertheless, he finished all four exams just before the bell for the first lunch period.

“If you want, you’re more than welcome to head down to the cafe for lunch. If I’m remembering correctly, I think Natasha and a few of her friends have lunch this block.” Fury offered.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.”

“I can walk you there, if you’d like.”

“I think I’ll be okay, thank you though.” _I don't want to be the kid with an administrative escort. Not again._

“Alright, well there are signs all around the school with directions on them. Also, if you could be back by the start of next hour, that would be great. I have the student council president coming down to give you a tour of the school and walk your class schedule.”

Bucky nodded.

Out in the empty hall, he was grateful to be up and stretching his legs. Sitting for three hours with non-stop test taking wasn’t too kind on his back. The principal was right, there were signs, everywhere. From what Bucky could gather, this school was huge. He honestly didn’t care if he ended up in the lunch room. He’d rather take the time to explore on his own.

Left seemed like a good direction to start off in. He wandered aimlessly through the spacious hallway, following the increasing locker numbers, _A1634, A1635, A1636,_ and counting the colored tiles on the floor. Navy and maroon posters hung on the walls, reading off cheesy motivational quotes or the school mottos. Bucky honestly couldn’t tell the difference.

“It’s Bucky, right?” A voice called from behind him. He turned. “I’m Tony, we met the other night at Clint’s.”

“Right. Hi.”

“New hair cut?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks good,” Tony said.

Bucky smiled sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“Okay, I know this may seem like a totally random question…”

_Oh here we go,_ Bucky thought.

“… but do you like robotics? This period’s my free hour and Mr. Pym lets me work in the lab by myself, so you could hang with me if you aren’t doing anything.”

“There’s a robotics lab here?” Bucky asked, surprised. Robotics and electronics had always been something that intrigued Bucky, but he never had the opportunity to experiment with them before.

“Yeah, come on, I’ll show you. I was just running to my locker real quick to grab this one last part.” Tony spun a circular metal ring in-between his fingers. “I had to lift it from my dad’s workshop so I can finish my project.”

Tony lead Bucky down another side hallway, past classes filled with attentive students.

“So your dad’s into tech too?” Bucky asked.

“Um, yeah,” Tony chuckled. “It’s kinda his job.”

Bucky furrowed his brow, confused at why Tony treated that fact like common knowledge.

“We never did get past first names, did we?” Tony asked. Bucky shook his head. “My last name is Stark. My father owns Stark-“

“Stark Industries,” Bucky stole the end of his sentence. “No way. Why don’t you go to some preppy private school?”

Tony shrugged. “That’s kinda what this place is, granted its not private. The only school that’s comparable in the state is Midtown, and my dad didn’t want me going to school all the way in Queens since headquarters are here in Albany. Ah, here we are.” He pushed open the door to the robotics lab.

Bucky had never seen anything like it before. There were four long tables, all home to various parts and circuit boards. Tony strolled over to the one in the back, where a small crane looking object was standing up. He snapped the piece in his hand into the joint, and the machine whirred around.

“This is Dum-e,” Tony said. “He doesn’t really do much right now, but he moves and has a voice recognition feature.”

“And you made this yourself?” Bucky asked in disbelief.

“Yep. I started the basic wiring over the summer, and as of two minutes ago, just finished him.”

“That’s incredible!”

“I know.”

Bucky was blown away, not only by how much Tony knew about robotics, but also by how much technology the school had at its disposal. The schools he had bounced around between in the last two years weren’t nearly as nice or advanced. The two ended up getting lost in conversation about science and technology.

“There’s a robotics team here, we compete and everything,” Tony said as he held open the door to the lab. The bell was due to ring in a minute, and Tony thought it would be best to not navigate the new kid through the crowd at passing period. “You should consider joining.”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Bucky replied sheepishly. He’s learned to not make commitments.

Once back in the office after Tony ‘dropped’ him off, Bucky was approached by both the Principal from before and a woman who introduced herself as Peggy Carter - his new academic guidance counselor. Bucky was half tempted to ask her if she was at all related to a Sharon, but decided against it. They sat back down in the conference room.

“Well, Bucky, you did very well on your placement tests,” she said. “You’re right on track with the other students in your grade, and even ahead in some subjects.”

“Alright, which ones?” He asked. He wasn’t at all surprised by the results, he had been on high honor roll up until he was thrown into the system two years prior.

“Science and math were well above average. English and History were on par with our curriculum.” She slid a packet of papers across the table to him. “There are four core classes that all juniors have to take, an English, a science, a math, and a social studies. Based on your scores, I’d point you in the direction of the honors listings within that course catalog.”

He started flipping through the pages. There were so many choices. It was overwhelming.

“I’ll take whatever classes you put me in,” he said.

A half hour later, Bucky sat in an office chair with his course schedule printed out. He was surprised by the number of times Ms. Carter asked for his opinion and input, and also by the leniency of the curriculum. There were so many different classes he could take to fulfill his requirements for graduation - if he stayed there long enough to. Nothing was for certain.

“Bucky, this is Hill,” Principal Fury approached him with a girl. He stood up.

“Maria’s fine,” she held out her hand to him. “I’ll be showing you around.”

“Cool, thank you.”

They walked out of the office.

“Do you mind if I see your schedule?” She asked. He handed her the pice of paper he had been holding.

1st hour: Honors Algebra, 1101, 1102(Rhodes) Room A2012

2nd hour : English 1101, 1102(Hiddleston) Room C1028

3rd hour: Art - Foundations of Drawing, 1101 (Simon) Room E1019

3rd hour: Art - Drawing and Sketch Composition, 1102 (Kirby) Room E2019

4th hour: Lunch, 1101, 1102 Cafe

5th hour: Advanced Placement Government and Politics, 1101 (Ross) Room D2024

5th hour: Honors Geography, 1102 (Ross) Room D2010

6th hour: Robotics Lab, 1101, 1102 (Pym) Lab B2014

7th hour: Advanced Placement Physics, 1101, 1102 (Foster) Room B2014

“Okay, so your classes are a bit spread out. It may seem a little overwhelming at first, but you’ll get the hang of it,” she said. “Let’s go this way.”

They started out in the direction of what would be his first period class come Monday.

“The school is organized into five different wings, four for core classes and one for fine arts electives. Honors or advanced classes are upstairs and regular classes are downstairs. In the center of campus is the cafeteria, library, and the gym and field house.”

“Seems simple enough,” Bucky said.

“Math classes are in the A wing, which is right this way. All the wings are labelled, and there are smaller side hallways that connect all of them so you don’t have to always cross the center of campus.”

They kept walking, and walking, and walking, until they hit a stairwell.

“How big _is_ this school?” He asked, taking in the sheer number of lockers and classrooms they passed by.

“I was waiting for you to ask,” she laughed. “All in all, there are about 6,000 people circulating through here. approximately 5,500 students, 375 teachers, and a hundred or so support staff. It’s a large campus.”

“Yeah, I’m seeing that now.”

“But you don’t have to worry about being late to classes. Passing periods are luckily ten minutes long.”

“Oh wow,” he said softly. “One of the last schools I was at, passing periods were only three minutes long. It was a smaller school though.”

“Ah, here we are,” she held the door open for him at the top of the stairs. “I never had Mr. Rhodes as a teacher, but I heard he’s really chill. I think he’s only a few years out of college too.” She lead him down the hall and up to the classroom, where she knocked on the door. A few moments later, a man opened the it. Had he not been wearing a staff lanyard with the name _J. Rhodes_ embossed on the front, Bucky would’ve probably mistaken him for another student.

“Mr. Rhodes, this is Bucky Barnes, he’s a new student and will be in your first hour class on Monday.” Maria introduced them. “Bucky, this is Mr. Rhodes.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rhodes said. “I’ll be seeing you in class on Monday then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then, Mr. Rhodes,” Bucky replied. He and Maria were about to turn away before the teacher spoke again.

“Oh, and Bucky, all of my students call me Rhodey. I’m not big on formalities,” he winked, then closed the door, returning to his class.

As Bucky and Maria started towards the C wing on the other side of campus, Bucky couldn’t help but to ask, “Is there some fixation on last names here that I should know about?”

Maria chuckled. “Well, Principal Fury is Principal Fury. Rumor has it that his whole family goes by _just_ Fury. And, I honestly don’t think he can remember my first name. Its always been ‘ _Good Morning Hill_ ,’ or _Have a good evening, Hill.’_ And as for Mr. Rhodes, I think its a military thing, at least that’s what some of my friends say.”

Walking the rest of Bucky’s schedule was painless. He was forewarned by Hill that his English teacher, Doctor Hiddleston (yes, the guy spent years on his doctorate in literature), loved Shakespeare, and that the two Ross’s on his schedule were in fact two different people. Weird coincidence. As the clock ticked on and on, Bucky’s mind drifted from thoughts of school to thoughts of Steve and coffee, and the weight of the crisp twenty dollar bill from Phil in his pocket. And then, to the buzz of his phone.

**S: Hey, Nat said you were touring the school today?**

**B: Yeah**

**S: What do you think so far?**

**B: This place is huge, and my tour guide is nice**

**S: Is it Maria?**

**B: Yeah, how-**

**S: Sam said she had a tour today**

Bucky looked up from his phone. “Hey, Maria, you know Steve and Sam?”

“Yeah, Sam’s my boyfriend,” she said. “Wait, you must be the new kid he said came over to Clint’s the other night, right?”

“Yeah that’s me.”

“Okay, now I’m starting to put the puzzle pieces together. Sam kinda sucks at remembering names.”

**S: So I was thinking, since you’re already here, that we could go for coffee right after school? I don’t have practice today so I can drive us**

**B: Yeah that sounds good**

**S: Cool, I’ll tell Clint to get a ride home with Nat**

**S: Ask Maria to show you where the mascot statue is. I’ll meet you there at the end of the day**

**B: Okay**

**S: I’ll see you later :)**

**B: See you later**

**B::)**

“Um, Steve said for me to ask you where the mascot statue was?”

“Sure! It’s right this way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all -
> 
> My school shut down for a few weeks due to covid-19 so expect more frequent updates on all of my current stories. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy.
> 
> ALSO Steve and Bucky coffee date comes next chapter, so stay tuned.
> 
> Hey! It's me from the future! It's May 20 for reference. If you're rereading this fic, you may have noticed that Banner has mysteriously turned into Helen Cho! It's okay, I have other plans for him in the future that I hadn't formulated when writing this chapter. If anyone finds any gender disagreements when reading over that part, please let me know. I think I caught them all though.


	3. Under (a lot less) Pressure (when I'm with you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Bucky goes on a coffee date. (Wait, is it a date?)

The Mascot Statue was in the center of the courtyard in the middle of campus. It was nothing like Bucky had ever seen before. The statue was in the image of what Maria said was an _Einherjar -_ some Norse army man or something - that stood easily over ten feet tall and was composed of solid copper. The toe of its right shoe, which stood at shoulder level to most, was shiny from the sheer number of times students had rubbed it for good luck before a test. It was a school tradition, or something. Maria explained how the _Einherjar_ were the school mascot, but instead the school adopted the name of the Avengers since it was easier to pronounce. Maria left Bucky there after they checked in with Fury, and were given the green light to go their separate ways.

Bucky sat down on one of the benches, trying to ground himself. As the clock ticked closer and closer to the final bell, Bucky grew more anxious - both the excited kind, as well as the panicky kind.

He dug around in the archives of his mind for tips Sharon gave him if he was feeling anxious. The first, five things he could see. For one, he could see the massive statue. The potted flowers around the doorways, then the bench and the small carvings engraved into the wood, all the way down to the crease in his shoes from frequent wear. _A deep breath._ He counted down all the way through four things he could feel, three he could hear, two he could smell, and one he could taste.

As the final bell rang, Bucky pulled out his phone to just confirm (again) that Steve said to meet _here,_ then checked his reflection in the camera. In the last two days since living with Phil, his outward appearance had changed considerably. Yes his hair was shorter, but there was something else too. He looked as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and the bags under his eyes were fading.

The courtyard began to fill up with students who were meeting in groups and starting to discuss weekend plans. Bucky scanned through the growing crowds until his eyes settled on _him._

Steve looked just as Bucky remembered from that Wednesday night. His blonde hair was swept back from his face, and his outfit looked put together, but not like he was trying _too_ hard. Everything about him was the same, except for the boot strapped around his left foot.

“Hey man, how are ya?” Steve walked over and took a seat on the bench on Bucky’s left side.

“Hey, uh, what happened there?” He looked down at Steve’s new orthopedic contraption.

“Oh,” he chuckled. “I told you I run cross country, right?”

“Yeah,”

“Well, I had a race yesterday and made it all the way through the course, set a new PR, and as I’m walking to get my number scanned in after crossing the finish line, I roll my ankle. Mrs. Barton is really overprotective when it comes to medical stuff, so she whisked me away to the doctor and they put me in this for two weeks. Said it was a grade two sprain.”

“That’s a bummer. I mean, not the PR-ing part - that’s awesome by the way - but the sprain thing,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, and that two weeks takes me right up to the end of the season, so I won’t be able to race at regionals, or have a shot at state this year. But at least I still have the track season and my senior year to look forward to. Anyways, do you want to get going?”

“Sure, yeah.” They both stood up and in that moment, Bucky saw that Steve stood a few inches taller than him. Not that he didn’t notice it the other night, but this time he was really paying attention. It was odd not being the tallest one, but he didn’t mind.

Next to Natasha’s red SUV was a navy blue truck. It was one of those older looking ones with an extended cab and a lower bed. Steve threw his backpack into the backseat, then climbed into the driver’s side. Bucky slid into the passenger side seat.

“Oh, I hope Val is working today,” Steve said off-handedly.

“Who’s Val?” _His girlfriend? I hope not._

“She’s a local college student, and the best barista at Skippy’s,” Steve explained.

Bucky took a deep breath. He was relieved. _Wait why was he relieved?_

Steve plugged his phone into the aux and browsed through his playlists. “Is Bowie okay?”

“Uh, yeah, Bowie’s great,” Bucky said. Under Pressure started through the speakers.

Turns out, the boys had very similar tastes in music. Rock was the common ground, but Steve drifted more towards classic and 80’s, where Bucky diverged more into alternative. Every so often, Steve would glance at Bucky when he was talking and nodding his head along to the beat, and couldn’t help but to smile.

“Welcome to Downtown North Albany,” Steve said as he pulled into a parking spot on the side of the road. The downtown was quaint, maybe four blocks of small mom and pop shops and eateries. Thankfully, for Steve, he got a close spot to Skippy’s. They only had to walk past two storefronts to get there.

The exterior had an aged brick-face with a chalk board on the outside describing the daily specials. Steve held the door open for Bucky. Cozy was an understatement. The interior of the cafe was warm and inviting, decorated in an eclectic fashion that somehow worked well together.

“This place has been here since the 40’s,” Steve said, walking up to the counter. “They used to make just milkshakes and black coffee, but they’ve changed with the times.”

Bucky looked around. The place certainly didn’t look like it jumped out of the same time as poodle skirts and greasers and socs - _wait_ that was the fifties. Nevertheless, the place was modern and comfortable.

“The usual today, Cap?” A girl sauntered up to the counter from the back of the shop. Her name tag read Val in almost illegible cursive.

“Cap?” Bucky questioned. Steve smiled and shook his head.

“It’s a nickname that apparently I’m never going to hear the end of.” He turned to Val. “Yeah, one large cappuccino and an almond croissant please, and whatever he would like.” Steve looked to Bucky.

“Oh, um,” He reached for the menu and perused it. “I think I’ll go for a pour-over coffee, the darkest roast you have, please.”

“Do you want anything to eat?” Steve asked.

Come to think of it, Bucky was running on empty. The coffee he had earlier with Natasha was already out of his system and he didn’t have anything for lunch on account of running into Tony in the hallway.

“The ham and cheese croissant is really good,” Steve suggested.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

Val added it to the ticket. Steve handed her his credit card, even after Bucky objected to having his food and drink paid for.

“You guys can take a seat, I’ll bring it all out in a bit.”

“Thanks Val,” Steve said. “Let’s go sit over there.”

They took a seat in a booth next to a side window. There were framed photos across the wall that showed the shop throughout the decades, up until its latest remodel a few years ago.

“So what did you think of school today?” Steve asked.

Bucky rolled his shoulders back and settled unto the booth. “It’s pretty cool, probably the biggest school I’ve ever been to.”

“Yeah, I bet it can be a lot to get used to,” Steve sympathized. “I moved here when I was four, and I’ve been here ever since so I guess I’m used to it.”

“Where’d you move from?”

“Ireland.” Steve said with a smile. “After my dad died, my mom moved back with her parents across the Atlantic and had me. My grandparents died just after I turned four. My ma had no reason to stay in Ireland, and New York always felt like home to her, so she found a job at Albany Metro General. She was a nurse.”

Steve’s story was interrupted by Val bringing over their croissants. “I’ll be back in a minute with the drinks.”

“Thanks,” Steve said.

“I’m sorry man,” Bucky said.

“Oh, its okay, I don’t remember my grandparents much anyway. Geez I didn’t mean to make this so depressing,” Steve chuckled.

Bucky smiled, “Nah man, you’re good.”

Val brought out the drinks, Steve’s cappuccino in a cup with a saucer, and Bucky’s in a mug.

“Thanks again, Val,” Steve said with a smile.

“Anytime, Cap.” She gently nudged his shoulder with her fist before finding her way back behind the counter.

They both took a sip of their drinks.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Bucky said between drinks. “This is probably the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, they roast it in house,” Steve agreed. “Did you get your class schedule?”

Bucky was relieved he changed the subject. He didn’t want to divulge his family history and scare Steve off. “Yeah, here.” He pulled his schedule from his pocket, unfolded it against the table, then slid it across to Steve.

He watched Steve’s eyes - _okay it was not fair how blue his eyes were_ \- scan across the page.

“Oh sweet, we have English together. And I think you might have a couple classes with Sam and Clint.” He kept reading. “You’ll definitely have Tony in your robotics lab. He’s almost maxed out on his math and science credits.”

“Dude’s like a technological prodigy, right? I mean, I saw the little robot he put together today,” Bucky said.

“Oh yeah, Tony said he ran into you and showed you the lab and stuff.”

Bucky nodded.

“I can’t believe he finally finished his project. He’s been lifting parts from his dad’s workshop for months.”

“Couldn’t he just order the parts through the school or something?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. “He probably could. He says he _borrows_ stuff from his dad just to piss him off though.”

Bucky tilted his head, confused. _Why would someone intentionally provoke an adult like that?_

“Tony and his father have an interesting dynamic,” Steve explained. “But that’s not really my story to tell.”

They both took another sip of their coffees.

“So, don’t take this the wrong way,” Steve started. “But is Bucky a nickname?”

Bucky was grateful that he just swallowed another mouthful of his drink, otherwise it probably would’ve come up his nose. At first he was worried Steve was going to ask a serious question by the tone of his voice, but no. He asked about his name.

“James is my first name, but I don’t care for it.”

“Wait, so where does Bucky come from?”

The confused look on Steve’s face was making it very difficult for Bucky to keep his calm countenance. Something about this whole situation was just so funny to him. Out of all the questions Steve could have asked—

“My middle name is Buchanan. Kind of a mouthful, right? _James Buchanan Barnes_?” He laughed softly, then bit his lip. When he looked up, Steve was smiling too.

“So you know how on the attendance roster, last names get printed first?” He asked, trying to clarify the origin story of _Bucky. “_ Well somehow my name was printed incorrectly on the roster and this substitute teacher I had in, god that was probably the second grade, read Buchanan instead of James, but botched the pronunciation. So _Bucky_ kinda stuck.”

“Oh,” Steve chuckled. “At least your nickname has to do with your name.”

“Yeah, I was going to ask about where Cap came from.”

“When I first started coming here, maybe two years ago now, the first drink I tried was a cappuccino. Except I didn’t know how to pronounce it, and I was with the guys and didn’t want to embarrass myself so I literally ordered a ‘cap.’ Of course Val was the one working so she started calling me Cap, and now my friends do too.”

“I don’t know, I think Steve suits you better,” Bucky said.

“Really? Thank you,” Steve said genuinely.

Bucky’s attention drifted to his phone that buzzed in his pocket. “Sorry, I gotta check this, its Phil.”

“Okay, he just wants me to be back by six for dinner.”

Steve looked down at his watch: 5:02. _Had two hours flown by that fast? Wow, time flies when you’re_ _having a really great conversation with a really great guy_ having fun. “Okay, after we finish eating, do you want to take our drinks to-go and walk around town a bit?”

“That’s fine with me.”

They finished their snacks and to Bucky’s surprise, Val brought out a second cup for each of them, “on the house.”

Steve held the door open for Bucky again on their way out. Though Bucky wasn’t going to say anything, he hated having to carry a drink while walking. It took up his one good hand and left him without a safety net if he tripped and fell, or wouldn’t let him hold hands with any one… _Wait. Holding hands? Where did that come from?_ He nearly chugged down his second cup and kept his eyes peeled for a trash can. The minute he saw one, he tossed the empty cup.

They stopped along the river walk and leaned up against the railing. Looking over the water, Bucky spoke. “Thank you.”

Steve turned. “For what?”

“Not prying. Lots of people always feel the need to ask questions about where I came from, and why I’m here, and why I keep moving, you know?”

Steve nodded.

Bucky looked back to the water and continued. “And its not that I’m embarrassed about it, but it’s something that happened to me and I don’t feel like I owe it to anyone to explain..”

“You don’t owe it to anyone,” Steve agreed. “I don’t want you to feel pressured by me saying this, but if you ever did want to talk about anything, I literally live right next door.”

Bucky smiled.

“We had no idea that Nat and Yelena were foster kids, not until a year after they started school and started hanging out with us. We just assumed that they moved here with Phil. It wasn’t until Nat invited us over for a movie that she finally brought it up. It was never a big deal though, and it definitely didn’t change how we thought about them.”

“How did you know I wasn’t, like, Phil’s nephew or something?” Bucky asked jokingly.

“Nat gave us a heads up that someone was moving in, so we kinda put two and two together.”

“And made four,” Bucky smirked under his breath. He was always one to finish the line. They started down the path again, trying to make the most out of the time they had left, which was quickly dwindling.

“So when you say _us,_ who do you mean?” Bucky asked.

“Oh, just our friend group, so Clint, Sam, Tony, Nat, Yelena, and Maria,” Steve listed. “And of course you too.”

Cue another smile from Bucky. He had never moved into a new house that came with a friend group - and he was grateful.

“They’re all a bunch of knuckleheads, to be completely honest,” Steve continued. “They keep trying to play matchmaker for me,” he laughed.

“Oh?” Bucky’s interest piqued.

“Yeah, there always like _come on Rogers, you’ve got a chance with more than just fifty percent of the population…”_ He trailed off until he made eye contact with Bucky. Steve was nervous for his response.

“So you’re bi?” Bucky asked.

“Um, yeah, I am,” Steve looked down again. He wasn’t unsure of himself, and it wasn’t a secret, yet coming out always felt difficult. He’d of course done it to all his friends before, but he had known them for ages before saying anything, and _of course_ they all said they had their suspicions, but this was Bucky. He just met the guy and definitely had feelings for him and didn’t know how he would respond.

Bucky, on the other hand, felt a weight come off his shoulders. Crushing on straight dudes only brought disappointment, which he knew all about. He smiled. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah, that’s good, I mean, uh..” Smooth talking was out the window. “It’s just, Yelena said something earlier and now it makes sense.”

“What did she say?”

“She said we would make a cute couple.” Both chuckled.

“You know, I think I agree,” Steve said. He ran his fingers through his hair, waiting to see if Bucky was going to catch his drift.

“Me too.”

It was Steve’s turn to feel relieved. But only for a moment though. He caught sight of the clock tower across the river, and that hour hand looked awfully close to six. His watch confirmed it - it was a quarter till.

“Good.” Steve quipped.

“Good,” Bucky smiled.

They turned and started walking back the way they came, and made about five feet before Bucky took a step closer to Steve and laced their hands together. They walked like that until they made their way back to the car

The ride back home was shorter than Bucky and Steve would’ve liked. As Steve pulled up to the curb, Bucky thanked him for a great afternoon.

“If you aren’t doing anything this weekend, you should come over and hang out.”

“I have to check with Phil, but I’d like that,” Bucky said. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later then,” Steve smiled. In fact, he couldn’t stop smiling. He felt like a giddy idiot.

Bucky waved goodbye as he turned towards the house. Steve pulled his truck onto his driveway, and pulled out his phone. There were almost fifty messages.

**Tony: How did it go?**

**Clint: Yeah Cap, spill**

**Clint: I’ll harass you when you get home if you don’t**

**Sam: Yeah we want details**

**Yelena: Come on Steve, spill the tea**

**Nat: Was it a date? Or just two guys going out for coffee**

**Nat: There’s a difference**

**Tony: Oh I definitely think it was a date**

**Maria: Wait what are we talking about?**

**Sam: Steve took the new kid out for coffee**

**Maria: Better have been to Skippy’s**

**Maria: It was Bucky, right? I gave him a tour today and he mentioned knowing Sam and Cap**

**Nat: It was. Buck was talking about it this morning on the way to school**

**Clint: He starts on Monday, right?**

**Nat: Yeah**

**Clint: Get him to send you his class schedule**

**Clint: I hope Peggy is his counselor.. It would suck for him to have been put in a different class block from the rest of us**

**Nat: Idk I’ll ask him when he gets home**

**Tony: Ha Cap isn’t even answering**

**Tony: I definitely think it was a date now**

**Nat: Come on Tony, give it a break already**

**Tony: What? I’m just rooting for those two cuties**

**Tony: OTP material**

**Tony: Also Cap isn’t here to defend himself so…**

**Sam: How would you even know? You only met the new guy once**

**Nat: His name is Bucky**

**Sam: Okay, my point still stands**

**Tony: I actually got to meet him again earlier today**

**Maria: T think he’s in sixth hour lab with Pym**

**Maria: I walked him through his class schedule today**

**Tony: Sweet**

**Tony: So if Cap doesn't share I’ll just go digging on Monday**

**Nat: Tony.**

**Tony: What?**

**Nat: Don’t harass him on his first day**

**Tony: Fine I’ll wait till Tuesday ;)**

**Yelena: Wait I think I hear Steve’s truck**

**Nat: Are you sure it’s not the mail?**

****

**Yelena: No it’s definitely his car**

**Yelena: He’s dropping Bucky off**

**Nat: What, are you watching through your window?**

**Yelena: Yeah**

**Nat: Creeper**

**Yelena: …**

**Clint: He’s probably gonna sit in his truck and read all the messages he missed**

Steve scrolled through the messages until another notification came through.

**Bucky: Hey, I had a really great time tonight Phil says I can hang out tomorrow night after dinner**

**Bucky: If that works for you**

**Steve: Yeah that works :)**

He swapped tabs into the group chat.

**Steve: Yes it was a date**

**Steve: I think**

**Steve: do NOT ambush him on Monday**

**Steve: Also would it be okay with everyone if I added him to the group chat?**

**Steve: And if I do, you guys have to promise not to embarrass me**

Steve pulled his keys out of theignition and checked his reflection in the rear view mirror. He was blushing. Nevertheless, he climbed out of the truck, grabbed his backpack, and made his way inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey - thanks for reading!  
> Sorry for the delayed update, I thought I would be writing a lot more considering the current world climate, but I took this chapter a little bit slower just because :)
> 
> For reference: Bucky is about 6'0, Steve is around 6'3, and Sam is also 6'0. Everyone else is a touch shorter, but proportional to their adult counterparts in the movies.  
> Also forgive me for any hand-wavy school scheduling stuff. You'll see what I mean in chapter four.
> 
> I already have the next few chapters outlined and a few new characters (coughcoughPeterParkerandDarcyLewiscoughcough) will make an eventual appearance. I’ll update the tags when that’s applicable though. I'm really excited to keep going with this story, so all of my other works are now on a temporary hiatus for the time being.  
> Also, yes Val is short for Valkyrie. I haven't come up with a feasible way to introduce Thor or Loki into this fic yet, but we'll see.
> 
> I hope you all are doing well! I love reading comments, so feel free to leave me some :)


	4. "These Aren't the Droids You're Looking For," and Other Jedi Mind Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day at a new school has a greater probability of being a rough time, unless you already have friends or have the power of the Force on your side.   
> Luckily, Bucky has both.

Bucky was nervous. He was no stranger to starting at a new school, but those were all one-offs for him. He’d only stayed a few weeks before he was shuttled around through the system again. He hadn’t been to a real school though since last fall. His end of the road was at a group home just outside of Ithaca, where they opted for in-home tutoring instead. But this time around he felt pressured to make a good impression with his classmates and teachers. He _could_ graduate from here, even if that was a while off.

The weekend passed a lot faster than Bucky would’ve liked. He got to know both Natasha and Yelena better, and grew increasingly comfortable in their company.

He also stayed true to his word and spent time at Steve’s on Saturday night. They did a lot of talking, and Steve even got Bucky to play Wii tennis since it only required a one-handed remote. Bucky was grateful that Steve wasn’t treating him any differently because of his arm (or lack thereof). They even got to talking about movies they liked, and much to Bucky’s surprise, Steve had never seen Star Wars.

That’s why today Bucky decided to wear the Star Wars shirt he got with Phil last week, with jeans and a flannel. His old sketchbook, which usually stayed submerged under clothes, was now standing up against a binder in his bag ready to go for his art class. He double checked his backpack to make sure he had everything he thought he might need, reapplied his deodorant just to play it safe, then swung his bag over his shoulder and headed down stairs.

Unlike Bucky - Natasha, Yelena, and Phil were all breakfast eaters, so they were sitting around the table finishing up their plates of eggs and toast.

“Good Morning kiddo,” Phil said after wiping his mouth with a napkin. “There’s some extra eggs in the pan if you want some. If not, I’ll eat them.”

“I’m good, thanks though. Is there any coffee?”

“Yeah, the pot just finished. There’s insulated cups in that cabinet right above it.”

Bucky opened the door and reached for a plain stainless steel bottle. “Is this one okay?”

Nat nodded as chewed a piece of her toast. She held up her own bottle, which looked the same as the one Bucky was holding, except it was a fierce shade of red. Once she swallowed, she explained, “The red bottle’s mine, the purple one’s Yelena’s, and the blue one’s Phil’s, so the silver one is yours.”

Bucky looked down at the bottle. It was _his_ bottle. The gesture was simple enough, but it meant a lot. Things in this house were _his_. He had never felt this kind of kinship in any of the places he’d lived before. Not even when he lived with his parents—

“Thanks,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Nat replied. She got up and put her cleared plate in the sink. “Come here a sec.” She gestured for Bucky to follow her. He set down the empty bottle by the coffee machine and his bag on the floor, then followed her.

Natasha walked up the stairs and into her and Yelena’s shared bathroom, then bent down to grab a can from under the sink. Bucky watched her from the hallway.

“Come on, I’m not going to lysol you.” She held up the can. He walked into the bathroom and Nat looked up at his hair. “Why do you have to be so tall,” she said before climbing up on the countertop.

“Sorry,” he said with a bit of light-hearted sarcasm. “What are you doing?”

“Just giving your hair a little _floof_.” She combed her fingers up and through his hair, just as Bucky had tried to do earlier, then sprayed a bit of hairspray from the aerosol can. After a few moments of her spraying and readjusting strands of his stubborn wavy brown hair, she nodded. “Much better.”

She slid down from the counter top, giving Bucky an unobstructed view of himself in the mirror. His hair was laying nicer than it had been not two minutes earlier, and it even looked like it had a bit more volume to it. “You gotta teach me how to do that.”

“Years of practice,” Nat said as she tucked the can back into its place in the cabinet under the sink. “At ballet, we have to have our hair back in buns with no stray pieces. Hairspray is both an ally and an adversary,” she laughed.

He took one final look at himself before turning off the bathroom light and following Nat back downstairs.

“Here,” Phil handed him the bottle, which was now full, and a lunchbox. “I hope a ham and cheese sandwich is alright. I put some other snack foods in there too, but we can sit down later on tonight and talk about lunches.”

Bucky nodded. “Thank you. Oh and Phil, I gave some thought to what you said in the car last week, about going to talk to someone.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I think I’m okay, for right now.”

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind,” Phil patted him on the back. “Have a great day at school.”

The three piled into Nat’s car, and instead of flooring it around curves and corners, she took her time. Bucky looked at the clock on his phone - 7:30.

“Aren’t we going to be early?” He asked.

“Yeah but we’re meeting up with everyone first,” Nat said.

***

Once at school, Natasha turned her combination into the lock of her locker, then threw her lunch box inside.

“Um, Nat, I don’t know where my locker is, and it isn’t on my schedule,” Bucky said.

“That’s okay, you can put your lunch bag in my locker for today and we can stop by student services before the end of the day and get that all sorted out.”

Clint came up behind Natasha and snaked his arm around her waist. “G’ Morning.” Then one by one the rest of their friend group circled up around Nat’s locker. Bucky looked around and noticed that Steve wasn’t there yet.

“Alright man, class schedule,” Tony held his hand out. “Let’s see it.”

Bucky took the folded sheet of paper - which was getting a lot of wear around the corners from the number of times it had been unfolded and looked at - and handed it over.

“Oh sweet, you have Algebra with me and Sam,” Clint said.

“And English with _Steve and I_ after that,” Sam said, grabbing hold of the paper while simultaneously correcting Clint’s grammar, which elicited an eye roll from the blonde teen.

“Where’s Steve..?” Bucky finally plucked up the courage to ask.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Steve was quickly walking (or hobbling rather with the boot still on his left foot) down the hall. “Sorry I’m late, I had to drop off my model in the art room so I didn’t have to carry it all day.” He stood next to Bucky.

“Well none of us are in an art class, except for Steve, but he’s in studio sixth hour,” Sam continued.

“But I could walk you there after English,” Steve offered with a smile.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Bucky said.

“Hey wait, we all have AP Gov together,” Nat said. “We can all walk there after lunch.”

“And then Buck-o and I have Robotics together after that,” Tony added. “AP Physics with Doc Foster is right down the hall.”

“You, me, and Clint have that class together too,” Sam piped in. He handed Bucky’s schedule back to him just as the warning bell rang for first period.

“I’ll see you in an hour,” Steve said to Bucky as he started walking towards his first class.

“See you,” Bucky gave a short wave before Clint pulled on his backpack. “Algebra’s this way.”

Luckily Mr. Rhodes, or Rhodey as he preferred to be called, didn’t ask Bucky to make up any of the work he missed from the first month of school. Instead, he was sitting at a table next to Clint and Sam working independently on quadratic equations and downing his coffee from the bottle. They were a breeze. After he finished the worksheet he pored through the syllabus and flipped through the textbook that Rhodey handed him in the beginning of class.

Then the bell rang. Bucky shoved his papers into the front cover of his book and the book into his bag. He followed Clint and Sam out, but not before Rhodey stopped them.

“Sam, I’ll be seeing you later at ROTC, right?”

Sam fixed his posture. “Yes sir.”

“Great,” Rhodey leaned up against his desk after capping his marker. “Oh, and Bucky, nice work today.”

“Thank you.”

They stepped out into the hallway. The atmosphere was surprisingly relaxed compared to other schools Bucky had been enrolled in.

“Catch you at lunch Clint,” Sam said as Clint headed in the opposite direction. Sam lead Bucky downstairs and across campus to the English wing, where they met up with Steve. Sam tried to act like he didn’t notice when Steve and Bucky started holding hands.

They assumed their seats in the back of the classroom.

“How much time is left before class starts?” Bucky asked.

“About five minutes, why?” Steve answered after craning his neck to see the clock.

“I saw a bathroom down the hall, I’ll be right back,” Bucky got up and maneuvered his way out of the classroom.

Sam immediately turned to Steve. “So, you _thought_ it was a date on Friday, or it _definitely_ was a date and you were just holding out on me?”

“Come on man, really?” Steve’s cheeks went pink.

“Really. You know, I can’t be a good wingman if you don’t let me in.”

“Okay fine. When I asked him to go, I didn’t say it was a date because I didn’t know for sure how he felt, but by the end of it we were holding hands and then he said that Yelena said we would be a cute couple and I agreed and he agreed and then we hung out a bit over the weekend—”

“Okay dude, you’re rambling,” Sam chuckled.

“And now I agreed to watch some Star Wars with him this weekend—”

“Oh man, he’s got you whipped if you’re watching Star Wars.”

“Well it’s not like I actively avoid watching it, it was just never my cup of tea. Heck, I didn’t even watch Harry Potter until Natasha dragged me in front of their TV last summer,” Steve said.

“Hey, but now you like Harry Potter.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Just don’t tell Tony that all it took for you to watch any George Lucas film was for the pretty boy to bat his eyelashes at you,” Sam joked. “We’ll never hear the end of it.”

Bucky sat back down just as the bell rang. Their teacher, Doctor Hiddleston, made the rounds to take attendance and to bring over a syllabus for Bucky. “You’ve actually started school on a really great day,” Hiddleston said to Bucky before turning to address the class. “Today we are all journeying back to the 1920s with F. Scott Fitzgerald’s _The Great Gatsby.”_

Hiddleston started passing out books from a box on the back counter. When he got back to Bucky’s table he explained that the book was his to keep and was covered by his school tuition.

“I should have all of your exams from the last unit graded by this Friday at the latest, so keep an eye out on your online grade book for those scores. Alright everyone, lets dive in. Open to page one if you will.”

In the middle of Dr. Hiddleston’s analysis of the differences between East and West Egg and the residents on each, Steve slid over a post-it to Bucky.

_Did you do something different with your hair?_

Bucky peered out from over the top of his book to look at Steve, but he had his attention turned to the front of the room.

_Natasha put some hair spray in it this morning_

He slid the note back. Steve looked down at it, then back up at Bucky, then back down to the paper where he jotted down another note.

_It looks really nice_

“Mr. Rogers,” Hiddleston called him out, noticing his attention slipping. “What do you make of Fitzgerald’s repeated description of the windows and curtains on page eight.”

Sam had to stifle a laugh. Steve’s eyes dropped down to the page of his book and didn’t skip a beat. “It could represent a desire for freedom from the material world.”

“You’re on the right track. Anything you’d like to add Mr. Wilson?”

Sam wiped the grin off his face, “No, sir.”

“Alright let’s carry on.”

And carry on they did. Just before the bell rang, they were assigned some work for that evening.

“So for tonight, I’d like each of you to pick a character and track them throughout the novel. Get to know them well. There _might_ be a paper due about your character at the end of the novel,” he winked. The bell rang. “I hope you all have a wonderful evening.”

As promised, Steve walked Bucky to his art class but had to leave him at the door in order to make his way back across campus for his third hour gym class - which at this point he couldn’t even participate in. _Damned rolled ankle_.

Bucky stood awkwardly inside the classroom. It was spacious, and instead of desks, it had longer tables with stools. Canvases secured on easels were lined up against the wall and two drying racks were standing in the corner playing host to various papers. He felt, not quite uneasy, but maybe a bit unsettled. This was his first class where he knew no one.

“Hey, it’s Bucky, right?” Mr. Simon, who he had met on Friday, came into the classroom behind him.

Bucky nodded.

“I don’t have a seating chart, but kids tend to pick a seat and sit there for the rest of the semester.”

“Hey Mr. Simon.” A girl with long red hair walked in and took a seat at the table closest to the windows.

“Good morning! I can’t remember, is there an open seat at your table?”

She opened her arms, gesturing that the whole table was open. “You can sit over here if you want. Julie sits there, though,” she pointed to the chair at the end of the table.

Bucky decided to sit across from her.

“This class is pretty chill. It’s a lot of independent work, and I’m mostly just here as a sounding board for your ideas and to give you points for the works you complete,” Mr. Simon explained. “Do you have a sketch book? If not I have a ton of extra ones I can lend you.”

“That’s okay, I have one,” Bucky reached into his bag and pulled his out. The cover was worn and creased, despite being less than a year old. It was another “little something” for him from Sharon from last Christmas. He was only about half way through it.

“That’s great! As far as grading goes, I just ask to see whatever you’ve completed, or whatever you’re working on, every Friday to give you credit for the week. I don’t really have a syllabus, but there is a curriculum we _loosely_ follow, so I just demo a technique or two at the beginning of every other week, and all I ask is that you incorporate that technique into your portfolio for credit.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Bucky said.

“Sweet. Well, I’ll be up at my desk if you need anything. There’s colored pencils and oil pastels and basically any other medium you can think of in those cabinets over there, so feel free to explore.”

“Thank you.” Bucky turned back to the girl at the table. “My name’s Bucky.”

“I’m Wanda.”

***

Come lunch time, Nat texted Bucky and told him to come to the courtyard. There, she, Clint, Sam, and Steve were sitting around one of the tables. Nat grabbed Bucky’s lunch from her locker, and it was sitting next to Steve, who presumably was saving a spot for him at his side. Bucky was pleased to find that Phil had packed him not only a sandwich, but also some of what was left of the snack foods they bought last week, like a can of Arizona sweet tea and a rice krispie treat.

Tony sauntered in half way through the lunch hour - which all of the group said was normal - after tinkering around a bit in the lab. While everyone was mid-conversation, Bucky decided to pull out his phone.

**B: Hey Phil, thank you for packing me a lunch today. I really appreciate it.**

**P: No problem, glad you liked it. :)**

Bucky was about to put his phone away when he received another text message:

**S: Hey Bucky, it’s Sharon. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I’ll be stopping by tonight to check in with you and see how you’re doing at Phil’s**

**B: Cool, what time were you planning on? I want to make sure I’m there**

**S: Probably around 5**

**B: Alright, I’ll see you later**

**S: See you tonight**

He was no stranger to impromptu social worker house calls. Thankfully, Sharon always gave him a heads up before popping in, on the condition that he wouldn’t clue in his guardian. That way she could get a real feel for the living situation. Bucky wasn’t a fan of surprises, and was always grateful for Sharon’s warnings. This time though, he was actually excited to see her, which was a change from previous placements.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Steve said softly.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just wanted to text Phil and tell him thank you for lunch,” Bucky said, pocketing his phone.

“Okay good,” Steve replied. “Just checking.”

They both smiled intently at each other before Tony cleared his throat. Bucky turned to look at him, then he wiggled his fingers and said “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

Everyone laughed, except for Steve since he ‘ _didn’t understand that reference_.’

At the end of the hour, the group trekked up to the second floor of the social studies wing for AP Government. This was the class Bucky was probably the most nervous for. Everyone warned him that Ross was one of the strictest teachers in the building, and the short interaction Bucky had with him on Friday did little to dispel his worries.

The desks in Ross’s classroom were in straight rows. Old war posters were framed at measured intervals around the room, and a giant American flag hung above his desk. Ross liked his students in alphabetical order, so he made everyone shift backwards by one desk to make room for Bucky, so he ended up sitting right in front of Clint.

Government felt by far like the longest class of the day, and it was the one that so far produced the most homework. Ross checked out a textbook to Bucky and gave it to him with a four page syllabus. He also said in not so many words that he expected Bucky to review the material they covered in the first few weeks of class since he wouldn’t be taking time in-class to review those items before the final, or the actual AP exam in spring. Bucky couldn’t wait for the bell to ring, and when it finally did, he was relieved.

“Your Jedi Mind Tricks don’t work on me,” Tony said out in the hallway.The two had split from the group and were headed towards the Robotics Lab. Bucky laughed. “You and Rogers look cute together.”

Bucky’s cheeks went pink.

“You remember the piece I was finishing in the lab on Friday?” Tony asked.

“Yeah, Dum-e, right?”

“I added his first functional feature today.” Tony opened the door to the lab and headed towards his station.

“What is it?”

Tony pulled his laptop out from his bag and attached a cord from it to the robot. It whirred awake.

“He is now an overrated fire extinguisher.”

Dum-e hummed as though it was dejected. Tony typed some code onto the screen, then pulled a lighter from his pocket. He flicked the lighter until it produced a flame. Almost instantly, Dum-e turned towards the it and released a stream of fire extinguishing gas directly at the lighter.

Tony showed Bucky the basics of coding for Dum-e, and even let him write a line that had Dum-e whistle ( _can robots whistle?_ ) after successfully putting out an, albeit small, fire.

Bucky met back up with Sam and Clint for physics. Like all of the classrooms he had been in today, the physics room was unique. There were curved tables with rolling chairs facing the front board, which was displaying a whole mess of nearly illegible equations. He didn’t know what to expect of Dr. Foster since they weren’t able to catch her on Friday.

Clint snagged an unused chair from the back of the classroom and wheeled it up to his and Sam’s table. The minutes ticked by, until the bell finally rang. Bucky looked around and noticed that the teacher wasn’t there. Most of the kids that filled in the class were sitting leisurely on their phones, and if he weren’t sitting next to Sam and Clint, Bucky would’ve thought he was in the wrong class.

Suddenly, a blur of brown hair and papers entered the classroom.

“Good afternoon everybody, sorry I’m late,” she started setting down the papers into various piles on the front counter. “Got caught up in a staff meeting,” she looked up and made direct eye contact with Bucky. “Right, new student today, cool.”

“Alright everyone, why don’t we take out the packet from last week and discuss your answers with the people at your table.” She instructed. In the mean time, she grabbed a textbook from the corner of her desk and a variety of papers and took a knee next to Bucky.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Foster,” she held out her hand. Bucky shook it. “I wasn’t here on Friday, I had a family thing in New Mexico last week, otherwise I would’ve given you all this then. Sorry it’s so much all at once.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I’m Bucky Barnes.”

“Alright, Bucky,” she stood up and placed the materials on his table. “I won’t collect any of this from you, but It’ll be worth looking over since some of it will be on the final come December. There’s my copies of the notes we’ve done so far in class, plus some other extra practice packets. I’m not always in my classroom throughout the day, but I usually respond to emails pretty quick - my address is on the front of the syllabus - if you ever have any questions.”

“Thank you.”

She walked back over to her desk and logged into her computer. Bucky flipped through the pages he was given and looked over the notes. They were photocopies of the same scrawl that covered the dry-erase board with diagrams squeezed in the margins. Luckily there was just enough room in his backpack to fit the textbook just under his lunch bag.

After bringing up the powerpoint, Doctor Foster hoisted herself up onto the corner of the front lab counter and began reviewing vectors from last week. By the end of class, everyone was laughing, and cracking bad physics jokes.

At the last bell of the day, Bucky followed Clint and Sam out.

“Is she always like that?” Bucky asked.

“Somewhat scattered and easy-going?” Sam supplied. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“But she’s really smart. One of the top in her field,” Clint added. “What did you think?”

Bucky chuckled. “She’s not what I was expecting, but a pleasant surprise.”

They went down the stairs, planning to meet up with the rest of the group back at Nat’s locker, but Bucky was intercepted by Peggy Carter as he passed the front office.

“Hey Bucky, how was your first day?”

“Oh, it was pretty good actually.” He turned to Sam and Clint who had stalled for him, “I’ll meet up with you guys in a minute.”

They shrugged and then continued on down the hall.

“I totally spaced on Friday and meant to give you this.” She handed him a slip of paper. “Your locker number and combo. I took a look in the database and found an open one near Natasha’s, so that should make your morning a bit more convenient.”

“Thank you, I was meaning to head down here at some point to get it,” Bucky said.

“No problem, have a good evening.” She turned back into the office. Bucky, who could see both Sam and Clint and the rest of the group down the hall over the throngs of students, started off in their direction. By time he got over there, everyone was ready to go. Sam departed from the group before they left the building, since he had an ROTC meeting with Rhodey.

To both their relief, no one made a big deal when Steve and Bucky walked out to the parking lot hand in hand.

“Hey, if you want, I can share my notes from government with you tonight,” Steve offered.

“Just wait for me and Yelena to leave before you two _start_ anything,” Nat said, reaching to cover Yelena’s ears.

Both Bucky and Steve reddened at the insinuation, before chuckling. “See, look what you started _punk,”_ Bucky nudged him with his shoulder. “Wait, where are you and Yelena going tonight?”

“We have dance tonight,” Natasha said.

“But didn’t you just have class yesterday?”

“Yeah, we have ballet classes on Sunday afternoons, and pointe on Monday after school,” Yelena said as they finally approached their cars.

Steve leaned up against his truck. “Text me tonight?”

“Of course,” Bucky smiled. He was genuinely elated that he and Steve had grown close in the past few days alone. They hugged each other briefly before getting into their cars.

***

At home, Phil left a note on the counter saying he went out to the grocery store, and to text him if there was anything they needed outside of the usual weekly list. Bucky followed Nat and Yelena’s lead in putting the ice packs from their lunches back in the freezer, and the lunch bags back in their cabinet. The girls then ran upstairs to change into their tights and leotards for dance. Within ten minutes, their hair was slicked back into neat tight buns, and they were out the door.

_This has to be a test,_ Bucky thought. _There’s no way they’re leaving me by myself, given my track record._ He passed through the living room where Alpine was sun bathing on the couch, and up to his room.

He didn’t remember his room getting so untidy, but here it was with dirty clothes piled in his bathroom and bed unmade. He dropped his backpack in the desk chair and got to work.

The bed seemed like the easiest thing to tackle, so he pulled the sheets, then the blanket, then the comforter across and smoothed out any wrinkles. He tossed his pillow, then the sham up at the head of the bed.

Since he didn’t quite remember how to operate the washer and dryer downstairs (even though Phil showed him over the weekend), Bucky opted to shove all his dirty clothes in a basket and put it deep inside his closet. Laundry was a problem for later.

After he deemed the room clean enough, he decided to open the window, but not past the half way point for sake of not setting off an alarm. Then he decided to get started on his homework. Thankfully he jotted down all his assignments on a sheet of notebook paper to keep track of them all. He made it half way through his reading for government, which in his opinion wasn’t _that_ bad, before he heard rustling downstairs.

He closed his book and ventured out of his room and down the hall to peek over the stair banister, but he couldn’t see anything. Going down further and finally into the kitchen, he saw a couple grocery bags on the counter. The door to the garage opened behind him.

“Hey Phil,” Bucky said.

“Hey Buck, would you mind grabbing the last bag of groceries from the car? I’ll start putting these away.”

“Sure.”

Bucky went outside to grab the last bag, which ended up being just a 2-liter of sprite. He brought it in and placed it on a clear counter spot.

“Can I help put anything away?”

Phil had Bucky put the cereal and granola bars in the pantry, as well as the soda. After they finished, they ended up sitting at the table, talking about how his day at school went, how his teachers were, and what his favorite class was so far. It all felt strangely domestic and natural to Bucky - not something he was used to given his previous stints in group homes. Not even his old home in Syracuse felt like this. Time ticked by.

The door bell rang. Phil got up to answer it after wiping the look of confusion off his face. _He_ wasn’t expecting any visitors. Bucky followed him from a distance.

“Sharon, what a surprise! Come in, come in,” Phil welcomed her inside after answering the door.

“Thank you, Phil.” Sharon entered the foyer and saw Bucky sitting on the stairs. “Hey kiddo!”

He got up to give her a hug, but not before mumbling, “I’m not a kid,” with a smile.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Phil asked, though he already knew. He went through all this before with Nat and Yelena.

“Just checking in and seeing how things are going.” she replied.

“You should stay for dinner!” Phil exclaimed.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” Sharon said.

“No, please, it’s no problem! I haven’t even started cooking yet, and the girls,” he looked down at his watch, “the girls should be back from dance in about a half hour.”

“Well, I’ll leave it up to Bucky,” Sharon said, looking towards him.

He smiled. “Of course, you should totally stay.”

Phil headed towards the kitchen. “Is pasta okay with you Sharon?”

“Pasta is great Phil, thanks.”

Bucky stood up from the steps. “Come on up. I know the drill.”

“The _drill,_ huh?”

“Yeah, this is what, first week check-in number six?” He said on the top landing of the stairs. “You get to see my room and other accommodations, ask me about school and home life without the guardian present, and then you talk to all of us together.”

“I guess you do have it down to a science now,” she chuckled.

“This is my room here,” he pointed to his door. “ Phil’s office is that door to the left, then his bedroom is at the end of the hall to the right, and those two across the hall are Nat and Yelena’s rooms, which you probably already know since you used to be their case worker, right?”

Sharon nodded.

“So yeah, this is it.” He opened the door to his room. “The closet and bathroom are through that door there.”

Sharon looked around. “You got your own bathroom? That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I think it connects to Phil’s office though. It’s one of those, um, I forget what it’s called.”

“A Jack and Jill bathroom I think,” Sharon said.

“Yeah. He doesn’t ever use it though, so its all mine.”

“Hmm—”

“What?”

“You’re actually moved in. Your clothes are hanging in the closet, you’ve got homework out on your desk—”

“And?” Bucky asked.

“It’s just a nice change of pace. If I’m not mistaken, this is the first first-week-check-in I’ve had where you’ve actually unpacked.”

Bucky sat down on his bed. “I don’t want to mess this one up, Sharon. Phil’s really good, and I’ve already made friends here too.”

She smiled. “I thought you would do well here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are with the hand-wavy school scheduling stuff I warned y'all about in the last chapter notes. Please forgive me for that, and chalk everything schedule related up to necessary plot convenience. :)
> 
> Also, I just want to say that going forward there aren't going to be day by day/ class by class descriptions in every chapter. I just wanted to set this chapter up this way so you all would get a feel for his class schedule and the certain characters I've introduced.
> 
> Speaking of characters, this chapter comes with updated tags! Yes, that Wanda in Bucky's art class is Wanda Maximoff. But just a small intro for her now - more will come later. AND for all my Stucky fan readers, tooth rotting fluff is planned for chapter five, I promise! I just had some world-building things to get out of the way this chapter.
> 
> There was one Easter egg in this chapter I'd also like to point out while I have the chance. Mr. Simon (Bucky's art teacher) is a reference to Joe Simon, one of the co-creators of the Captain America comics in the 1930s-40s. There were other Easter eggs throughout as well, but that was one I wanted to point out specifically. 
> 
> Finally, there are a few things I'd like to clarify image wise. Of course you're welcome to continue picturing what you're picturing setting and character wise, but here's how I have envisioned two specific aspects of the story:  
> \- Bucky's amputation happened at about the middle of his forearm (more backstory on that later)  
> \- Phils house is pretty big. It's a five bedroom, four bathroom, two story house with a basement.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy out there! Leave a comment if you feel so inclined, I love reading what you guys have to say. :)
> 
> P.S. I'm writing this extra note on 3/31 (two days after publishing this chapter) just to say that I have just finished writing chapter six. So chapter five may be a few days (we'll see), but expect chapter six soon after.


	5. It's Not an Unspoken Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galaxies, stars, and street lamps, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ta Da, Time Jump!*  
> Last chapter took place on Monday.  
> This chapter takes place on the Friday of the same week.

In the days that passed after Sharon’s first home visit, Bucky felt more at ease. The first week or so in a new placement always tended to be difficult. This time though, it wasn’t. It was probably a combination of the kinship he was feeling and the friendships he created.

Also, throughout the week, Steve was being more openly affectionate. Hand holding became a regular thing during passing periods, and hugs at the beginning and end of each school day. No one questioned it. Everyone was just happy to see those two happy. And they were. Really.

Bucky was mulling all that over internally as he rested his head against Steve’s chest while they continued to watch Luke Skywalker outsmart streams of witless Storm Troopers. They were stuck in their own bubble of elation and Bucky thought could faintly hear Steve’s heartbeat like a jovial drum.

They were sitting on the couch in Clint’s basement watching A New Hope on one of the Barton’s streaming services, since Bucky didn’t have it on dvd and he wasn’t entirely comfortable inviting people over to Phil’s yet. Only a few strings of white christmas lights that were hung from wall to wall illuminated the room.

Steve’s arm was wrapped around the back of Bucky’s shoulders, holding him close. Bucky, who wasn’t a fan of anyone touching him - let alone his left arm, somehow didn’t mind how Steve held onto him. He felt content. Secure.

As the movie progressed, Bucky kept catching Steve glancing down at him and then back up at the movie. Bucky was guilty of the same. He may have watched Steve’s facial expressions more than the movie. He took in the small dimples that formed around his smile and his clear blue eyes, all the way down to the little crook in his nose.

Steve was never one for movies in general. He never had the attention span for them. Granted, he never had the attention span for much. His leg had the tendency to bounce and his hands had the tendency to fidget, except for when they were interlaced with Bucky’s which was more often then not.

After the awards ceremony at the end of the movie and the end credits rolled down the screen neither wanted to get up.

“What did you think?” Bucky asked.

“I liked it. I honestly didn’t think I would,” Steve chuckled.

“What was your favorite part?” Bucky asked curiously. He always liked the Cantina scene, sans for the arm part. He could go without seeing that.

Steve turned himself so that he was facing Bucky. “Honestly? Sitting here with you.”

Bucky smiled, then bit his lip.

“I wouldn’t mind watching the second one tonight too,” Steve suggested. Bucky mentally fist pumped. He was down to watch anything, so long as it meant he didn’t have to leave Steve’s company yet.

“I gotta text Phil first, and make sure it’s okay that I stay out late.” It was already nine o’clock. Even though it wasn’t a school night, Bucky remembered Phil’s relaxed rules about curfew as long as he texted him first. Luckily, Phil gave the green light to start another movie. The remote was just within Steve’s reach so neither had to get up.

“I can’t believe Disney bought Gunn Films too,” Steve said, scrolling through the Disney+ menu to get to The Empire Strikes Back. “Have you seen the Guardians of the Galaxy movies?”

“No, but I’ve flipped through a couple of the comics. Phil works at the place that publishes them so there’s some laying around the house.”

“We should definitely watch those movies sometime too. They’re really funky,” Steve said. “Awesome soundtrack too. Must’ve cost them a fortune to get the rights to some of those songs.”

“If you wanted, we could watch one of the Guardians movies tonight,” Bucky said. His curiosity was piqued by the mention of good tunes.

“Oh, if you want, yeah,” Steve said, changing the screen over to the Guardians page and pressing play. They readjusted and got comfortable. Bucky ended up holding Steve’s hand and resting his head on his shoulder.

Steve was a little tense at the beginning in the hospital scene and squeezed onto Bucky’s hand, then relaxed as soon as the title card rolled out and Redbone started playing. Bucky realized that it probably reminded Steve about his mom. He’d been there when Steve got a call updating him on her condition back on Tuesday; She wasn’t doing well. Steve planned to drive into the city tomorrow afternoon to go visit her. The least Bucky could do now was to be there for Steve.

Most nights after school, Bucky found himself hanging out at Steve’s. Steve lent him his government notes, and they worked together on English work. In that time, Steve figured something out. He loved watching Bucky laugh. The way his nose crinkled and how his eyes closed and how he leaned his whole head back. It was so genuine, and to be completely candid, it was adorable. Guardians of the Galaxy was quickly becoming Steve’s favorite movie. Not only because he found it downright bold and hilarious, but also because Bucky was enjoying it. Steve would do anything to see Bucky smile like that all the time.

Throughout the whole movie, Bucky was keenly aware of how Steve’s hands fit perfectly in his. He was simultaneously relaxed and on edge, feelings of affection ~~and love~~ bubbling towards the surface. _How did I get so lucky?,_ Bucky thought.

By the time the end credits rolled again, the boys were nearly asleep reclined in the couch. Bucky was once again nestled near Steve’s chest with heavy eyelids.

“Is it over already?” Bucky asked, sleepiness laced in his voice.

“Mhmm.”

Bucky sat up slowly and stretched out a bit. “I should probably get going, it’s pretty late.”

“Do you really have to?”

Bucky nodded.

Steve walked Bucky back home hand in hand, but before they went up the porch steps Bucky stopped.

“Steve.” Bucky looked down, then back up into Steve’s eyes. “I don’t want to have an unspoken thing.”

Steve chuckled at the movie reference, until he realized Bucky was being serious.

“So many aspects of my life are uncertain, and even though we haven’t known each other very long, but one thing I’m certain of is the way I feel about you—”

“Bucky—”

“And I don’t want to scare you with how I’m feeling—”

“Bucky—”

“But I just need to be honest—”

“Bucky—”

“What?!”

“Just shut up and let me kiss you!”

Steve stepped forward and took Bucky by the neck and pressed their lips together. It was electric.

Stunning.

Perfect.

Bucky pulled back first and placed his hand on Steve’s chest, planning to say something but no words came up. Instead he stepped back towards Steve and reconnected their lips in what could only be described as fire - so much so that they ended up tripping over each other’s legs and ended up laying on the cool green lawn illuminated by the solitary streetlight on the corner.

They laughed. And laughed. And giggled.

“I guess I really fell for you, huh,” Steve laughed.

Bucky rolled over and laid next to Steve, ignoring how the grass tickled his neck. “That’s a really bad joke.”

“But it’s the truth.”

***

Bucky doesn’t remember what time he finally went inside because all he could think about was how he could see the stars in Steve’s eyes. Come to think of it, Bucky realized that they never really put a label on what they were - not that it mattered much anyway. They had each other, and that meant world to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I have two apologies. First and foremost, sorry it took me a while to upload this new chapter. And secondly, sorry it is on the shorter side. I probably rewrote this chapter about five times, and each one was drastically different. This one ended up being my favorite, so here we are. This has been a bit of a learning curve for me, so I intend to try writing more fluff, since its a bit more difficult for me than writing angst.
> 
> Also, awwww their first kiss! I hope you all are able to picture it the same way I do, in all of its cute and clumsy glory.
> 
> Anyways, in my end notes on the previous chapter, I mentioned already having chapter six written. While that is true, it's now being bumped back to chapter seven, but six should be up in the next few days!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you're hanging in there :)  
> Feel free to leave a comment, I love reading and responding to them


	6. Soda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter title is after the song Soda by Nothing But Thieves

Sunshine filtered in through the blinds in Bucky’s bedroom, causing him to pull his blanket back over his head until it registered that sunlight meant day time and he most definitely slept in. With that revelation, he decided it would be best to get up. The minute he planted both feet on the ground, he felt, well, off. _Great. It’s going to be one of those days._

After washing his face in the bathroom and combing his fingers through his hair, which was already getting longer, he checked his phone and planned on sending Steve a quick ‘ _Good morning :)’._ He was surprised to see that he already had a notification.

**Tony: Hey Bucky - keep an eye out for a package today**

**Bucky: A package?**

**Tony: Yeah**

**Bucky: That’s definitely not cryptic at all**

**Tony: Cryptic is my middle name**

**Tony: jk it’s Edward**

**Tony: Just text me when you get it**

**Bucky: Okay**

_Weird,_ Bucky thought. He shuffled downstairs in his flannel pajama bottoms and short sleeve shirt after giving up on a hoodie. The texture on the inside of the sweatshirt was irritating the skin of his left arm and he was luckily now comfortable enough around Phil, Nat, and Yelena to not cover up.

“Ah, good morning!” Phil said, standing near the oven. “I was just about to come upstairs to see if you were up. I made cinnamon rolls.”

“Good morning,” Nat and Yelena said.

“‘Morning.” Bucky sat down at the table and rested his head in his hand, still somewhat sleepy. “Is there any coffee?”

“Nope,” Nat sighed. She side-eyed Phil. “ _Someone_ let the bag run out and didn’t go out to get more.”

Phil held his hands up taking the blame, which made Bucky smile. He’d noticed over the last two weeks that the girls and Phil shared similar mannerisms, like a real family. And though he found it amusing, he couldn’t help but to feel like an outsider looking in.

Phil brought over plates topped with the iced rolls for everyone. As Phil placed on in front of Bucky, the pain in the teen’s residual limb flared causing him to grimace and tighten his open hand into fist, creating crescent shaped imprints in his palm.

“Are you okay?” Nat asked, picking up on the change in his body language.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Bucky quickly regained his composure and pressed his hand into his knee. Glancing around the table, he read the concern off of their faces. “I’m fine, really. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Phil doubted what Bucky said, but he didn’t press.

Bucky picked up a roll and took a bite. It was probably the best cinnamon roll he ever had, with just the right amount of cinnamon and sweetness - and he made sure to let Phil know.

“You wanna know the secret?” Yelena asked. Bucky nodded, curious. “The dough is store bought, but Phil mixes up his own icing. A family recipe or something like that.”

“Family recipe, or a hack off Pinterest?” Nat added. “Tom _a_ to, tom _ah_ to.”

Phil smiled and shook his head, not denying Nat’s insinuation. “So do you girls have plans for today?” He asked Nat and Yelena.

“I’m going to the range with Clint” Nat said. “He’s got an archery competition next weekend so he’s logging some extra hours.”

“And I’m hanging out with Wanda this afternoon. She wants to take reference photos of me dancing for her art class.”

Bucky just shrugged. Steve was in the city all day, so Bucky didn’t have anywhere to go. He just planned to work on school stuff and maybe see about going for a walk around the neighborhood just to get out of the house.

“Well I was thinking since both of the girls are busy, you might like to go work on Lola with me,” Phil suggested, turning the conversation towards Bucky.

“Lola?”

“His car,” Natasha rolled her eyes with a laugh.

“It’s _more_ than a car Nat, you know that,” Yelena chided.

“A beauty. That’s what she is,” Phil said. “A bright red 1962 Chevy Corvette. Since you’re in a Robotics Lab at school, I figured you might want to take a look at her.”

Bucky thought back to the last time he was in the garage. It was just yesterday when he tossed a empty can of tea in the recycling and there definitely wasn’t a red Corvette in there. Nevertheless, it piqued his interest.

“Sure, but where —?”

“My buddy Mack has a garage he lets me store her at,” Phil said. “If he’s home this afternoon I’ll have to introduce you. He’s a real stand up guy.”

Bucky nodded. “Oh, and Tony said I should be expecting a package today.”

“I was wondering when he was going to send it,” Natasha said, taking another bite of her food.

Bucky turned to look at her, confused. “So you know what it is?”

“Yep.” She popped the ‘p.’

“So you’re not going to tell me?”

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’ again for emphasis. “It’s a surprise.” She took the last bite of her second cinnamon roll, scooped her empty plate over to the sink, and went back upstairs.

Bucky finished off his plate and followed suit, putting his plate in the sink on top of Nat’s. Phil had even offered to stop by Skippy’s on their way. The temptation of caffeine got him moving quickly. He was dressed and ready to go within a half hour.

***

Mack lived out past the edge of town in a large ranch style house with a three car garage. As they pulled into the driveway, Phil looked at his phone and sighed. “Looks like Mack got called out on an insurance claim not even twenty minutes ago. We must’ve just missed him. Poor guy’s supposed to work a typical 9-5, but it seems like he’s always working.”

He put his car into park, then got out and punched in _2091_ into the garage panel. It took a second to react before the garage door chugged up.

Bucky never considered himself much of a car person, but his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when he saw Phil’s car. He turned his attention away from the dull tingle in his residual limb that had been bothering him the whole ride there, to the smooth finish of the poppy colored metal.

“She’s a real beauty,” Phil admired before popping the hood. “On the outside at least. The insides need a bit of work before she’ll be road ready.”

“Phil, I don’t really know much about cars,” Bucky said. “The only reason why I took the robotics lab in school is because Tony suggested it. I mean I like science, but more like physics and and less mechanics.”

“That’s okay. It’s nice to have you here as a helping hand…” Phil paled. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”

Bucky laughed. “No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” But just after, he felt a sharp pinch of phantom limb pain, and immediately reached up to grab his elbow.

“Are you alright?” Phil asked.

“It still hurts sometimes, like it’s still there,” Bucky said. “That’s part of the reason why I don’t wear the prosthetic. Having it there just made it weird for me.” He looked down at his shoes.

“I never thought about it like that,” Phil said.

“Yeah, not many people do.”

“Is there anything that helps the pain?”

Bucky shook his head. “Time has helped. The first few months were god awful.” He paused. “I’ve honestly learned to just ride the waves out. Also not thinking about it helps, so what can I do?” He pointed to the car.

Most of the work Phil had Bucky help with was tightening a few bolts, and acting as a tool caddy from the work bench to where Phil was working inside the hood. Bucky was also working up some courage himself.

“I’ve been wanting to ask,” Bucky started. “Why me?”

Phil pulled himself up from inside the car and looked at Bucky with a mildly confused expression.

“I mean, you, Natasha, and Yelena are pretty well settled and its not everyday that well settled families decide to take in a teenage boy with baggage and I thought I wasn’t eligible for a placement given my track record-”

“I was in a position where I felt like I could help another kid out,” Phil started. “The road to being _well settled_ isn’t linear by any means, but I talked to the girls about it and we all agreed that it would be okay if I reinstated my fostering license.”

He reached back into the car with a wrench to tighten a piece. “I reached out to Sharon and asked her if she knew of anyone around the girls’ age who needed a place to call home. The very next day, she sent me your file and a few days after that she brought you over.” He pointed to a rag that was strewn over the back of the work bench. “Can you pass me that?”

“So that’s it then?” Bucky said quietly, handing over the towel. “I didn’t really know how that whole thing worked.”

“How did you think it worked?” Phil asked as he cleaned the grease from between his fingers.

“I don’t know,” Bucky chuckled to himself. “Maybe like online shopping, and then if you decided you didn’t like me within 30 days or something, you got your money back.”

Phil’s expression turned sympathetic.

“I mean, now that I say it out loud it sounds dumb, but I’ve been to a place or two where that’s how it felt.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Phil was relieved that the kid was finally opening up to him, but at the same time he had no idea what to say.

“You’re different, you know?” Bucky said.

“Why’s that?”

“You don’t hover. I’m going to be honest, it kinda weirded me out at first until I got used to it.”

Phil pulled the hood down and secured it. “I’ve never been one for helicopter parenting.” He used the back of his hand to wipe away the accumulating perspiration. Though it was the first week of October, the weather still fluctuated between the summer heat and autumn chill. That and laboring over a stubborn engine for a couple of hours was enough for him to break a sweat and work up an appetite.

“How about we call it a day and head home and get some lunch?” Phil suggested.

“Sounds good to me.”

***

A black box was waiting on the doorstep when they got back to the house. Bucky picked it up and held it in the crook of his left elbow in order to see the shipping label. It was from Stark Industries, addressed to him. He decided to bring the box inside.

Phil offered him his pocket knife to open it. Bucky wedged it under the packing tape and slid it across until the flaps of the box spring up on their own. Inside that box, was another sleek black box topped with a post it.

_Hey Bucky -_

_This is something I created in my spare time from a discarded prototype in the tech lab at my dad’s office, so it’s yours to keep._

_Don’t worry about the keyboard, its a touch board, so all you have to do is swipe your finger across to type._

_If you’re having any issues with it, just text me. I hope you like it :)_

_-TS_

“You got to be shitting me.”

Phil raised his eyebrow at the teen’s language, but refrained from commenting on it. Bucky lifted the lid to unveil a StarkTech laptop. Phil whistled.

It was slim and shiny. Bucky lifted the screen, and true to Tony’s word - the key board wasn’t there. Bucky ran his fingers over the surface where the key board would’ve been, and it light up in response. He could not believe Tony just gave him a laptop. _Made_ him a laptop.

“I can throw a frozen pizza in the oven, if you want,” Phil suggested. He was unfazed by the young Stark’s generosity, since two of the first recipients of his home-brew technology were Nat and Yelena.

“Yeah that’s fine, I’m not picky.” Bucky responded absent-mindedly. He was still in awe over the whole thing.

**Bucky: Tony- I got the package… I don’t even know where to begin**

**Bucky: Thank you!**

**Tony: Don't worry about it! I wanted to give it to you sooner but the keyboard thing was glitching** **and I had to fix it**

**Tony: Also Nat told me to wait until you got settled in**

**Tony: I’ve been told I can be overbearing on first glance**

Bucky chuckled under his breath.

**Tony: Let me know when you get it all set up**

**Bucky: Will do**

**Bucky: Wait how does this keyboard work?**

**Tony: It works like a regular keyboard, but theres a tactile swipe and word recognition software, so you can slide your finger around the board from letter to letter instead of hitting each letter individually**

**Tony: My hope is that it makes typing more efficient for you**

He tried it out after opening a browser, and it did exactly what Tony said it would. Bucky felt like there would at no point be a time where he would stop thanking Tony for the laptop. Seriously.

Thursday rolled around. The bell rang, signaling the start of sixth hour. Tony and Bucky pulled their stools up to the counter and got their laptops out from their bags. They settled into a working routine which was nearly predictable to the second. As soon as Bucky opened his mouth to dole out another _Tony, really, thank you so much for this,_ Tony lifted his index finger.

“If you say thank you one more time, I’ll take it back,” he joked.

Bucky closed his mouth.

They spent the next forty-five minutes of class finishing another addition to Dum-e. Mr. Pym threatened the pair with detention after being busted with a lighter while trying to test the robot’s fire extinguishing range, so they decided to work on a less pyrotechnic feature.

It turns out that Bucky’s strong suit was the practical design and building element, while Tony worked on coding. By dividing the workload, they were able to finish adding a solar panel that harvested light energy to keep Dum-e powered. Before that breakthrough, it was burning through four triple-A batteries every other day.

***

Later on that evening, after dinner and after the stars lit up outside, Bucky received a text that put a smile on his face. It was from Steve. He just got out of a late doctors appointment with a sports medicine specialist, and he was told he didn’t have to wear the boot anymore. Then, Bucky got an idea.

“Hey Phil?” He called from the top of the stairs. Phil was sitting on the couch watching the seven o’clock news. “Would it be okay if Steve came over for a little bit tonight?”

“That’s fine, just make sure you don’t stay up too late since it’s a school night.”

“Got it, thank you!” He unlocked his phone screen and scrolled back into he and Steve’s text message thread.

**B: Do you want to come over tonight?**

Bucky waited anxiously for a response. To say he missed Steve was an understatement. Yes, they had some classes together and exchanged chaste kisses in the hallway before and after school, but they hadn’t spent actual time together since that night over at Steve’s that ended with butterflies in both their stomachs and light grass stains on their clothes. School and life started to get in the way, now that they were accustomed to their new routine.

**S: Sure! :)**

**S: I’m about to leave the parking lot at the dr.’s office, but I should be home in about 20 mins**

**B: Great! See you soon and drive safe <3**

**S: See you in a bit <3**

The clock on Bucky’s phone screen read a few minutes after seven, so he turned back into his room to straighten a few things up before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth and check his hair in the mirror. Having very minty breath never hurt anyone.

He was practically buzzing with excitement when Steve texted him to say he was there.

“Do you want to go upstairs? We can hang in my room,” Bucky suggested.

“Sounds good, I might be a little slow on the stairs though.” Steve pulled up his pant leg to reveal a slim ankle brace. “I got cleared to go back to mild exercise, so I can ride a bike while my team is running, but Ihave to limit the impact on it.”

They started up the stairs. Steve stopped at the top and waved to Phil.

“So how is it feeling, otherwise?” Bucky asked.

“It's a little sore, but it's a lot better than it was. I’m supposed to use this brace thing for another week or so, and then if it’s feeling good I get to go without it,” Steve said.

Bucky opened the door to his room and waved Steve in in a gesture of comedic grandeur. After Steve bowed inside and Bucky pushed the door almost entirely shut, they laid side by side on the long edge of the bed.

“I missed you,” Bucky said, turning towards Steve. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.”

Steve slid closer to Bucky. “I know, this past week has been crazy, but I promise once my cross country season is over we can spend all the time in the world together.”

“Really?” Bucky propped himself up on his elbows and looked down to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Really. Anything for my best guy.”

Bucky beamed at the term of endearment. “I’m your best guy?”

“Of course.”

Bucky bit his lip. “Prove it.”

Steve sat up and held the back of Bucky’s head as he pulled their lips together. After a moment, they separated and sat nose to nose. Bucky was practically in Steve’s lap.

He looked up at the ceiling, smirking. “I don’t know if I’m entirely convinced.”

He couldn’t get another word out before they reconnected. It was long and relentless and in that moment Bucky didn’t care if he drowned in it because he didn’t want to come up for air.

Then someone cleared their throat, and it wasn’t Steve or Bucky.

Bucky broke away and turned towards the door he had closed earlier to see Phil poking his head in. He practically leapt out of Steve’s lap.

“Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to let you know that Empire’s on downstairs, so I started recording it so you guys can watch it this weekend.”

“Thanks, Mr. Coulson,” Steve said genuinely as his cheeks turned pink. Bucky mumbled out a quiet _thank you,_ but avoided eye contact with either of them.

Phil pulled the door closed save for an inch between the door frame and the door itself.

The world was closing in on Bucky. His heart was pounding, and not in a good way. He felt like someone poured ice water down his back - he was shaking.

“Buck,” Steve reached out to touch his shoulder, which caused Bucky to visibly flinch and recoil from the contact. “Are you okay?”

Bucky tried to steady his breathing as best he could. “You should go,” he choked out. “Please.”

“Oh, uh okay.” Steve hastily got up and headed for the door. “Do you need anything—”

But as he turned back, he just caught a glimpse of Bucky quickly closing the bathroom door. He could hear water running inside, but not quite sure how to feel about what just transpired he closed the door behind him and ambled down the stairs as quickly as he could. Steve called out a quick _goodnight, Mr. Coulson,_ before grabbing his shoes and leaving with a head full of confused thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Firstly, sorry for not updating in what feels like forever. I've had a lot of things to process lately with what's going on in the world and that's interfered with my writing mojo. But- I'm back now. I'm going to try and keep these notes short, so here it goes.
> 
> The chapter title (as I mentioned in the notes above) is based off the song Soda by Noting But Thieves - especially the lyrics, "I don't wanna be myself, it's making me so unwell.." I definitely recommend giving that whole album a listen, it's pretty great.
> 
> I’ll also be throwing in some Agents of Shield references here and there, but nothing that’ll be alienating to anyone who hasn’t seen the show. (If you haven’t seen the show, you totally should)
> 
> The next chapter (which will be up very soon I promise) is the one I've talked about in the notes of my last few chapters. It's nearly finished. With that being said, this is the point in the story where things are going to get a bit emotionally dicey. I'll update tags accordingly, but it's not my plan to have to change the rating from teen+, or to write anything that would require an archive warning. This version of Bucky has some issues, and we're going to work through them.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and thank you for your patience. And leave a comment if you feel so inclined, I love reading + responding to them.
> 
> p.s. I made a tumblr! my handle is margots0dyssey and I plan on posting writing updates and extra behind-the-scenes/ world building stuff :)


	7. Level of Concern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter title is brought to you by Twenty One Pilots' newest single, Level of Concern. :)

Thank God it was Friday. Well, not God. Maybe the Universe. Thank the _universe_ it was Friday. Bucky couldn’t focus at all.

This morning was tense. He stayed up in his room until it was time for Nat to drive them to school. He couldn’t bear to be around anyone. Scratch that. He was too scared to be around anyone, though he would never admit it. Thankfully neither of the girls pried even after noticing his changed demeanor, and Yelena was thoughtful enough to fill his silver bottle with coffee without being asked.

If the car ride was full of awkward silence, Bucky didn’t notice. He kept his head phones on in an attempt to ground himself. It wasn’t really working. Over and over, images from last night played out in his head, from cuddling with Steve, to making out with Steve, to Phil walking in on them… It was hard to keep the suppressed memories from _that night_ two years ago separate. They were so similar. Cuddling, making out, getting walked in on, then getting beat, bloodied, bruised, and battered.

He lost more than just his hand that night.

Instead of meeting up with everyone at Nat’s locker like every morning, Bucky headed straight for class. When Sam and Clint finally got there - just as the bell was ringing - they sat down in their usual seats, but didn’t say anything. Bucky didn’t know what would make him feel worse, the continued silence or feigned friendliness and fake conversation.

It wasn’t until passing period, when it was just Sam and Bucky walking together, that Sam tried to initiate a conversation. The talking didn’t get very far. Bucky ducked into the nearest bathroom and told Sam not to wait up.

He locked himself in the first stall and just stood there. He didn’t even realize for how long, until he heard the bell ring out in the hallway.

He unlocked the stall door, and avoided looking at himself in the mirror as he started back out towards the hallway. Looking from left to right, he realized that A) he was alone and B) there was a doorway at the end of the hall to the outside. Logic and reason were so far gone at this point, so Bucky went for the doors and didn’t look back.

The now-chilled October breeze was a welcomed change from the stuffy circulated school air. Bucky kept walking. And walking. And walking. He made it all the way off campus, and into a nearby neighborhood that he didn’t recognize.

“Damn it!” He kicked at the curb. He knew he was in it deep. So naturally, he kept walking.

***

Steve sat in English, feeling more dejected than he had the night before after Bucky told him to leave. He didn’t know what he did wrong, _if_ he did anything wrong. He confided in Sam and Nat about what had happened.

Nat told him not to take it personally, that all kids in his situation come with baggage that needs to get worked out, but Steve couldn’t help but to feel like complete rubbish about it, even more so when Sam walked into class alone.

“Where’s Bucky?” He asked quietly, not wanting to draw unwanted attention from his other classmates or Hiddleston.

Sam shrugged. “He was really quiet in first hour, then said he was going to the bathroom during passing period. Maybe he’s just late to class.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

After Hiddleston took attendance and marked Bucky absent, both boys got the distinct feeling Bucky wasn’t coming to class.

Steve decided to text Nat.

**Steve: Hey, Bucky didn’t show in English. Have you heard from him?**

Hiddleston started weaving through the classroom to make sure everyone was working on their assignment, so Steve shoved his phone in his pocket and pretended to get busy. Once he turned his back to Steve, he pulled out his phone under the table and checked for a response.

**Nat: He probably went to the office.**

**Nat: Stop worrying, I’m sure everything will be okay**

The possibility of Bucky having gone to the office didn’t even cross Steve’s mind. He did start fretting less about it, but the lingering feeling that something was wrong still crossed his mind from time to time.

***

What Bucky didn’t realize was how close the Downtown area was to the school. He walked up the road and found himself standing in front of Skippy’s, but couldn’t bring himself to go inside. He turned down the road to the river front and sat on a bench overlooking the water, knowing that sooner or later he’d be getting text messages or a phone call from Phil about him ditching class.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. There was no way he was calling Phil - he didn’t want to be alone with him right now. He couldn’t text any of his friends - _were they still even his friends?_ \- because they were all in school where he was _supposed_ to be. He only had one option left.

**B: Hey Sharon, it’s Bucky. I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m in some trouble…**

Her reply was instantaneous.

**S: Bucky, are you okay? Where are you?**

**B: I’m fine. I’m at the river walk in down town. Can you pick me up? I messed up.**

**S: Of course. Stay where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can.**

It was twenty minutes before Sharon’s familiar silver Corolla rolled up to the curb. Bucky grabbed his backpack from the bench and shuffled into the passenger side seat. He was barely holding it together.

Sharon reached out and rubbed small circles into his back. “Why don’t we head back to my office and get everything sorted out, huh?”

Bucky nodded.

As they neared the familiar _New York Office for Children and Family Affairs,_ Bucky looked down again at his phone, which proved to be a bad idea on his part. There were countless missed messages from the group chat, Natasha, and a few missed calls from Phil. By now the school would’ve reported his unexcused absence to him.

Walking inside, Sharon’s phone started ringing.

“Hey… Yes, he’s with me… No, he messaged me.. We were actually about to start talking… Why don’t you stop by the office? Okay. Okay. See you soon.”

She turned off her phone and slid it back into her pocket. They rounded the corner. Sharon unlocked the door to her office, and held it open for Bucky. He dropped his bag and sat back in the chair by her desk - the same one he’d sat in any times before. Somehow he always ended up back here.

She took off her jacket and hung it on the hook behind the door, which she had closed behind them.

“That was Phil on the phone.” She sat down at her chair.

“I figured.” Bucky sat and looked at his shoes. “I really fucked up this time. I had something really good and I just —”

“What happened?”

“I freaked out.” He paused. “You know, you’re one of the few people who knows about what happened to me? You and the shrink the state made me see, and the few doctors at the hospital from that night, but that’s it. I never told anyone else.”

Sharon nodded, but didn’t say anything to allow him to continue.

“I haven’t told Phil yet. I’m sure he knows the general _this is why he doesn’t live with his dad, his the father’s jail, unfit, blah blah, and the mom isn’t in the picture,_ but I never told him the specifics.” Bucky took a deep breath. “And I don’t know if I told you, but I have a boyfriend. At least I think he’s my boyfriend - we never made it official or put a label on it or anything - but we’re definitely something.”

“Is it the guy you were talking about at dinner last week? Steve?”

“Yeah. We finally had some time yesterday where our schedule’s didn’t overlap, so Phil said he could come over, so Steve came up to my room and we were hanging out, and god this is so embarrassing,” Bucky held his head in his hand.

“You guys were sharing a physical moment?” Sharon supplied.

“Yeah, no, wait!” Bucky said, exasperated. “Clothes were on, we were just making out or whatever, and the door was closed part way, and Phil came up to tell me that he was going to record Empire Strikes Back on the TV and he saw Steve and I, and it just brought me back to that night.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “And he didn’t seem mad or anything and he just went back downstairs, but I spiraled. I told Steve to leave and not two minutes later I was bent over the toilet puking my guts out because of my fucking nerves. And I just couldn’t handle being at school today and especially since I have a class with Steve second hour so I just left, and now here we are —”

Bucky sighed and slouched further back in the chair.

“Well, you did the right thing by calling me,” Sharon said. “What do you think you’re next steps should be?”

He thought about it for a moment. He always appreciated how Sharon gave him some fraction of control over whatever situation he was in.

“I think I need to talk to Phil.”

***

Phil would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. Things were going so smoothly with Bucky, but that nagging feeling kept returning. When he got the call from the attendance office at school saying that he didn’t show up for his second hour English class, and that the school resource officer was going around campus looking for him, Phil wasn’t mad or disappointed. He was just concerned.

He suspected something might have gone awry when he barely saw Bucky this morning, only just as he was leaving, and Phil kicked himself for not checking in with him. The kid’s been like a ghost since Steve left the night before.

Bucky wasn’t answering his phone either - Phil didn’t expect him to at this junction - so it left him with no alternative than to call Sharon.

Thankfully she answered her phone, and she had Bucky with her. Phil tried not to feel disappointed when he found out Bucky called for Sharon instead of him, and instead reminded himself to be grateful that he was safe.

The drive to the office was longer than Phil would’ve liked. Even though Bucky had only been living with them for just over two weeks, Phil really took to him, and considered him like a son. He just _fit_ with them. He didn’t want to see the kid go.

Phil wasn’t one for nervous fidgeting, yet when the secretary at the front desk told him so take a seat while she let Sharon know he was there, his knee kept bobbing up and down. In the mean time he sent a text message to Natasha, letting her know that Bucky was okay and that he wouldn’t be coming back to school today. He practically leapt from his seat when he saw Sharon coming down the hall to get him.

“What happened? Is he okay?” Phil asked.

“He’s fine, he’s a little shaken up. You can come on back this way,” she led him down the hall, but stopped before opening the door to her office. “I don’t know if you have experience with children with post-traumatic stress—”

“Wait, that wasn’t in his file,” Phil said, thinking back.

“He was never formally diagnosed, he puts up a front and likes to keep most people at an arms length. I’m not a psychiatrist, but based on what he’s been through and knowing him for as long as I have, I would be surprised if he doesn’t have it.”

Phil sighed.

“He has somethings he wants to tell you. It’s going to be difficult to hear, I know. When I first heard, it was so hard for me to keep my emotions in check — but it’s not about us, it’s about him.”

“Yeah, okay,” Phil nodded.

Sharon reached for the door knob, but hesitated before adding, “He really needs validation right now. Let him initiate the conversation, and we’ll take it from there.” She gave him a reassuring smile, then opened the door.

Despite standing a hair over six feet tall, the way Bucky was hunkered down in that office chair made him look so small. The rims of his eyes were red like he’d been fighting off tears and his knees were pulled up to his chest. As soon as Phil and Sharon sat down, he dropped his feet to the ground and leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees.

Bucky turned towards Phil, “You probably want me gone, right?”

“Of course not, why would you think—”

“Because I’m gay,” Bucky spit out. He bit the inside of his lip, waiting for the verbal retribution.

Phil, on the other hand, was not expecting for that to be the bombshell of the morning. He knew Bucky and Steve had gotten close since that first night he arrived, and after last night he put it together that they were more than friends, but none of that mattered to Phil.

“Bucky, that doesn’t change anything,” he said softly.

“Yeah, but what about when we leave? Is everything still going to stay the same then?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

Bucky scoffed. He knew that Phil has been nothing but accommodating and caring since he arrived, but rational thinking wasn’t within his grasp. “I’ve had the _pleasure_ of knowing a few people who were nice and public, and not so much behind closed doors. Even my own god damn father was like that.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “Have you seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail?”

Phil was caught off guard by the question. “Um, yeah, it’s been a couple years but yeah, I’ve seen it.”

Bucky held up his left arm. “It’s just a flesh wound.” He laughed stiffly at his own joke - no one else did. “It’s not really what bothers me anymore, if I’m being completely honest. Don’t get me wrong, it sucks. I got the shortest of the shortest straws and the worst hand in the fucking deck, but I’ve adapted, I’m fine, it’s whatever.”

He pulled a knee back up to his chest and sat back. “The worst part is, um,” he exhaled a deep breath. “God I can’t even say it, that’s the shittiest part!” He didn’t even realize tears were starting to run down his face. He stared up at the ceiling and continued talking.

Sharon pushed a box of tissues towards the edge of her desk.

“My dad was always rough - never one for affection or great parenting. He took it out on my mom a lot, so she left when I was thirteen with no forwarding address, so wherever she is, I hope she figured herself out.Because, you know, after all I’ve been through, I still hope for the best. And that’s some twisted bullshit.”

He sighs. “She left without me. She left me there with him. But that was fine - I started doing work around the neighborhood, played guitar in a small band with a few kids from school and made a few bucks here and there. I was saving up so that when I was sixteen, I could get the hell out of there. But, uh, the spring before my freshman year he said he was getting cleaned up. He was going to stop drinking so much and he was going to be better. At least that’s what he said.”

Bucky reached for a tissue, but avoided looking at Phil. In fact, he looked anywhere else, from the floor, to his shoe, and back to the ceiling.

“So I was stupid, and let my guard down. And since I was figuring _things out_ about myself, I was a fucking idiot and invited a friend over.”

Now he looks over to Phil.

“And I swear, how it happened last night, it was exactly like it did then. Except after the guy left, my father served me my ass on a silver platter with his hands of inebriated conservative Christian righteousness. I could smell the alcohol through the door as I was fighting to keep it closed and before I know it the drunken bastard kicks the door in and the wood and metal from the knob splintered off into me and my hand was just—-”

Phil shifted in his seat. He was boiling with rage at a man he never met, while also fighting the urge to scoop Bucky into a hug and to hold onto him and to shelter him from the world. Neither he or Sharon wanted to move, as not to scare Bucky.

Most of all, Phil was devastated that what happened last night brought all these memories and emotions to the surface for him. He never would’ve gone up the stairs if he would’ve known. He wished he never saw the ad for Empire.

Bucky sat up a bit straighter in his chair and dried his eyes with the crumpled tissue in his hand. “I don’t really remember everything that happened next. I shut it out, shoved it all in a lock box and buried it deep. I remember the paramedics and police showing up - I don’t know how they got there - and then I remember waking up in the hospital down one hand and on my own.”

Phil got up slowly, and knelt in front of Bucky’s chair. He very gingerly placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and pulled him into an embrace. At first, he felt that Bucky was tense, yet he didn’t pull away. After a few moments, he sank into Phil’s shoulder.

Phil said to him softly, “I promise, I will never hurt you. I will never let anything like that happen to you, ever again.”

***

Steve couldn’t bring himself to eat his lunch. He was the first to arrive at their table (like always), and he sat there staring at his lunch box with such focus that when Nat sat down beside him, he startled.

“Hey, do you know where he is? How is he?”

“Whoa, slow your roll Cap,” Natasha said. “I don’t know the details, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be my place to say. _But,_ I do know that he’s with Phil and that he’s not coming back to school today.”

“Who’s not coming to school today?” Tony sat down in his usual seat, catching a fragment of Nat’s answer.

“Bucky,” Natasha supplied.

Tony groaned. “I was really hoping you were going to say Barton.”

“No, I’m going to be here _forever._ You won’t get rid of me _that_ easy _._ ” Clint sat down on the other side of Nat and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I wouldn’t go around saying that too loud,” Sam joked. “Super seniors aren’t cool.”

Steve forced a smile. The radio silence from Bucky was killing him, and despite being surrounded by his friends, he still felt lonely.

After lunch, Steve pulled Nat aside. “What should I do?”

“What do you mean?”

Steve rubbed his forehead. “I feel like this is my fault, and I need to make it right.”

Nat sighed, then drew Steve into a hug that they both needed. “I don’t know. I don’t know if he needs space, or company, or what, but just be there for him when he’s ready. That’s all you can do.”

“Yeah,” Steve pulled away after a moment. “Thank you, Nat.”

“Don’t mention it,” she smiled. “Come on, I don’t want to be late for Ross’s class.”

As the pair walked to the upstairs of the social studies wing, a multi-colored poster advertising the days for the upcoming Homecoming spirit week caught Steve’s eye.

“God, I can’t believe Homecoming is in two weeks. I feel like school just started,” Steve said.

“I know, right?” Nat agreed.

“Has Clint asked you yet?”

“Not yet, but I have a feeling he’s got something planned soon.”

“He’s cutting it kinda close, isn’t he?” Steve asked.

Nat shrugged. “We already know we’re going together, I’m just waiting for a _grand gesture_ on his part. What about you?”

“What do you mean, ‘what about _me’_?”

“Thinking about asking anyone special?” She nudged him as they turned the corner.

“I was, but now I don’t know. I don’t know where we stand—”

“Promise me something, Steve?”

He stopped and turned towards her.

“Don’t give up on him. I’m sure everything will work out okay.”

“What a bunch of slow-pokes!” Sam yelled from the end of the hall where the rest of the group was congregated before class.

“Shush Sam,” Nat called back while rolling her eyes.

They all filed into class and sat down with less than a minute to spare.

***

After several more minutes of hugging, reassurance, and tissues, Bucky was ready to go. Phil walked out of the office with him with his arm around the boy’s shoulder. On their way to the car, they passed a tall blonde woman - who Bucky recognized as another social worker from around the office - and a shorter curly haired kid who looked like he had been to hell and back, tattered up with bruises.

“Do you want do stop for coffee before we go home?” Phil asked unlocking the car door.

“You mean I don’t have to go back to school?”

Phil glanced down at his watch. “There’s only maybe three periods left, so unless you _really_ wanted to go back, I figured we could take the day and relax.”

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah, that sounds good. I need cup of coffee right about now, followed by a good nap.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew - Alright hi everyone, gosh this chapter has been in the works for a hot minute. (This is the one I've been talking about in the end notes of the last few chapters... It's finally here..)
> 
> I'm going to be completely honest here - I'm a bit nervous about posting this chapter. I feel like it has a lot going on, and it's got a pretty serious tone laced throughout. Also the semi-mystery surrounding Bucky's hand and why he's in the foster care system is revealed. I hope it all comes across as clear as I pictured. I will say that going forward, some of these darker elements will return, but there are fun times ahead, I promise!
> 
> I've laid the groundwork for a couple characters/ events in this chapter that will be built upon in the next couple of chapters. The details I've mentioned are very intentional, so I'm curious to hear what you all think about what might be coming next. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. I've been working on this pic for a little over a month now, and the responses I've received have blown me away. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy out there :)


	8. Short Change Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title is brought to you by the song Short Change Hero by The Heavy.

Bucky was groggy when he woke up. He felt well rested for only taking an hour nap, yet his chest still felt heavy with empty emotion, and despite every coherent thought that rolled through his mind telling him to get up, he curled back up after grabbing his phone off the bedside table.

Scrolling through, he saw he didn’t miss much more than a plethora of concerned messages from his friends. He’d deal with those later. He hit the power button and let his eyes drift shut, planning on drifting back to sleep. However, he could faintly hear a voice from downstairs.

He checked the clock on his phone again. Natasha and Yelena weren’t due home for another half hour or so, so who could Phil be talking to? Bucky tip-toed out of his room and over to the stairs where he sat and listened.

“Sharon, I don’t know if that’s a good idea for us right now.” A pause. “No, I know, but—” Another pause. “Is there a place where he can go in the meantime?”

Bucky’s heart sank. Was Phil kicking him out? Was his newest and greatest fear coming to fruition? He felt frozen to the spot, waiting for Phil to continue.

“You know I don’t run a dictatorship here. Any decision like this gets made as a family - all four of us.”

_Oh, he said four,_ Bucky sighed in relief.

“Of course I’ll get back to you. Thank you. Take care, Sharon.” Bucky heard a clunk, which he assumed was Phil placing his phone on the countertop over in the kitchen. He decided to head downstairs the rest of the way.

The hardwood floor creaked at the bottom step. Phil looked up. “Hey kiddo, feeling better?”

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah, I guess.” He took a seat at the counter.“I was actually thinking about maybe taking you up on that offer to go talk to someone. I’m tired of letting what happened to me control me.”

“Of course! We can go up to my office later and look at Doctor profiles later and schedule your first appointment.” He reached forward and placed a reassuring hand on Bucky’s right shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, kid.”

Bucky smiled. "Would you mind if I went outside and sat on the porch for a bit? I want to wait for Steve to get home, I owe him an explanation — and an apology.”

Phil hesitated before nodding. He figured if Bucky was going to make a run for it again, he would’ve done it already, and not asked ahead of time. Progress was progress.

Bucky went back upstairs to grab his sketch book, then sat with his legs crossed on the porch,intending to sketch the flowers in the planters that were starting to fade due to the colder temperatures at night that started to leech into the day.

It wasn’t long before he heard the rumbling of Steve’s truck coming up the street. Bucky watched how he pulled into the driveway and parked, and how he and Clint got out of the car. Steve froze when he turned and saw Bucky sitting on the porch.

Steve dropped his bag by the front tire and walked across the lawn, but Bucky met him half way, slamming into him with a big hug.

“I’m sorry Steve.”

“It’s okay.” Steve’s hand found itself at the nape of Bucky’s neck, and the other around his back holding him close. They stayed like that for a moment, and the world felt like it slowed to a stop.

“God I felt so bad after last night, and today was a mess—”

Steve pulled away and held Bucky by the shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m with you until the end of the line, okay? That means through thick and thin, ups and downs, everything, as long as you’ll have me.”

No words came from Bucky. Instead he pulled Steve back into an embrace and nestled his head into the crook of his neck, taking in the faint scent of his cologne.

Steve pulled away after a few seconds. “Can you come inside for a minute? I have something for you. Plus it’s getting a bit chilly to be outside with just a long sleeve tee on.”

“Yeah.”

After picking up his backpack, Steve interlaced their fingers together and led him inside and downstairs to his room. Bucky sat on the edge of the bed while Steve opened the door to his closet and slipped inside for a second, then stepped out with a bundle of something in his hands.

“Here, I thought you might want this.” Steve handed him a maroon hoodie with navy blue and white writing that read _North Pointe Boys’ Cross Country_ across the front, and _Rogers_ on the back. "I know I’ve been really busy lately, so now you’ll always have a bit of me with you.”

Bucky slipped it on over his head. “Thank you, Steve. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

Steve sat down next to Bucky and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “You look good in my clothes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky smiled and rested his head on Steve. “I’m really sorry about last night, it just brought up stuff from my past and—-”

“It’s okay, I get that there’s stuff and you’re not obligated to share anything with me if you don’t want to. I’m here for you, regardless.”

“Thank you.”

Minutes passed before Bucky figured he should head back home, seeing as he didn’t tell Phil he ducked inside Steve’s for a few minutes, and he wasn’t eager to start any more problems. Steve walked him back home, but before Bucky went back inside, he took hold of Steve by the collar of his zip up and brought their lips together.

***

After he heard the front door close, Phil crept up the stairs. He realized that sneaking around the house is irrational, because for one, its his house, and two, he was home alone.

The door to his home office was left open from earlier. He leaned against the door frame and took in the space before turning around and looking at the lofted area at the top of the stairs. If he maneuvered everything carefully, he could probably fit his desk and shelves and filing cabinets in that space and finagle a working area to free up another bedroom.

Then came the issue of buying a new bed and other furniture. Well, buying wasn’t the problem, it was the assembly. It would have to be a team effort.

Phil took a seat at his computer and opened the emailed file from Sharon. It brought him back to a few short weeks ago when he was opening a similar email, but instead of _Barnes, James B._ listed on the front, the name _Parker, Peter B._ was.

Based on the stats listed in his profile Peter had just turned fifteen in August. He grew up in Queens and was raised by his aunt and uncle after his parents died in a plane crash. When he was eleven, his uncle was killed in a mugging. According to the report, his aunt fell off the deep end and lost guardianship of Peter. Visitation has been restricted due to fallacies on the aunt’s part. He was lucky if he got to see his aunt once a month.

Phil felt for the kid. Losing both your parents, and then your uncle a few years later had be be tough. Hell, tough was an understatement.

The number of placements this kid had dwarfed Bucky’s list, but each description had a link that opened up to a photo gallery. Curious, Phil clicked in. As soon as the first photo loaded, his stomach sank. Peter was sporting a black eye and a split lip. The description read: _Engaged in altercation with teenager._

He opened every file, and it was more of the same. Phil closed out of the window and dialed Sharon. He couldn’t take in a fighter.

After two rings, she picked up.

“Hey Sharon, I got the file you sent me.”

“Okay great—-!”

“Wait, Sharon, I’m sorry but I can’t take in a kid that’s prone to violence.”

There was a pause on Sharon’s end. “Okay, I know what the file says, but that’s not the whole story.”

“Alright, I’m listening.”

“I just took on his case this afternoon from a coworker, but from my understanding all of those incidents were out of self-defense. I’ve had a chance to talk with him, and he doesn’t seem like he has a mean bone in his body.”

Phil shook his head. “But what about the file?”

“I know what the file says, but I can give you something better. Do you have a pen handy?”

“Yeah one sec,” Phil fished through the top drawer of his desk and grabbed out a pad of paper and a pen. “Got it, go ahead.”

“Okay, (678)136-7092. His former social worker’s name is Lance Hunter. He’s based out of the office in Queens, but he should still answer if you call him this afternoon.” Phil jotted down the phone number as Sharon continued. “He has the whole story, whereas I only have fragments. But Phil, I’ve been doing this job long enough to know when I’m seeing a troubled kid, or a kid who’s just had a bad break.”

“Of course Sharon, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Talk to you then.” Phil hung up and sat back in his chair. The grandfather clock downstairs rang out twice. He figured he had maybe another twenty minutes before the girls would be home, so now was a good a time as any to give this _Hunter_ a ring.

It turned out Sharon was right. According to Hunter, Peter was never the one to start the fights. In fact, he had been the victim of bullying at nearly every placement. The reason why he had to transfer from the Queens district to the Albany district was that he was continually harassed by two other kids who aged out of the system named Jack Rollins and Brock Rumlow.

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

***

“Alright, what gives?” Natasha asked, leaning up against the kitchen counter that was now home to various containers of Chinese food. “Not that I’m complaining, but takeout for dinner? Something’s up.”

“Alright fine, there’s something I want to talk about with you all, so help yourselves and grab a seat at the table,” Phil conceded.

Little cards on the top of the cartons identified what was what. Both Natasha and Bucky reached for the container of firecracker chicken.

“Hmm, I didn’t peg you for the spicy food type of guy,” Natasha said. She pushed the container towards him, and started scooping out spoonfuls of chow mien from a neighboring bowl onto her plate. “You can go first, but save some for me.”

Once they were all seated around the table with chopsticks (or a fork, since Bucky found chopsticks too cumbersome to use one-handed), the three teens looked at Phil expectantly.

“So, what is it?” Yelena asked between bites.

Phil took a sip from his glass, thinking carefully about how he was going to bring the idea of opening their home to another kid. “Sharon called me this afternoon—”

Bucky nearly dropped his fork.

“About whether or not we had room to bring another person into our home.”

“Do we, have actual room?” Nat asked.

“I can move all my things out of the office and we can order furniture to pick up as early as tomorrow, but that’s not what I was asking.”

“You’re asking if we’re okay with it?” Bucky blurted out.

“Yeah. This is kinda like a democracy. I’m not going to make big decisions that affect the whole house without input from everybody. Getting furniture and doing a little a bit of leg work to put it together is one thing, but—”

“There’s more than enough to go around here,” Yelena said. “I’m also down for a trip to Ikea because I need another bookshelf. I saved up for it too.”

Phil looked to Natasha.

“Yeah, what Yelena said - except I don’t need a bookshelf.”

“Bucky?”

“Wait what?” He had zoned out, picturing Phil and the girls discussing his fate at this very table maybe a month ago.

“What do you think?”

“Oh, um, I think I was incredibly lucky that you all decided to take me in, and I don’t want to stand in the way of helping another guy out.” He looked down at his plate.

Phil relaxed in his chair. “That was very well said, but how did you know it was a boy?”

“I may have heard you on the phone with Sharon earlier, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, she ended up calling me a few minutes after you went upstairs. His name is Peter.”

“When is he coming?” Nat asked.

“If we get my office all sorted out and furniture this weekend, the paperwork will take no time at all, he could be here as early as next Friday.”

“I guess we have our work cut out for us,” Nat said. “Let’s not keep him waiting any longer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone--  
> Sorry for dropping off the face of the planet! I'm going to age myself here, but I've been busy wrapping up e-learning for my senior year of hs, and I have four AP exams in the next two weeks, so wish me luck.
> 
> This chapter was originally going to be longer. This installment is maybe only 1/3 of what I had planned, but I felt like it was at a good stopping point and I really wanted to put something out for you all. 
> 
> No big things to break down in this chapter other than another reference to an Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. character, Lance Hunter. For those of you familiar with the show, I'd like to picture Hunter frazzled with all of his British tact. I do have a short one-off in the works that would be focused around how Nat and Yelena were placed with Phil, so if that's something you're interested in, comment below and let me know!
> 
> Hopefully I'll be updating soon, but once I'm out of exam weeks, I should have a more regular updating schedule. Hope you all are doing well, and staying safe and healthy. And leave a comment if you'd like, I love reading and responding to you all :)


	9. Picture This

They had settled into a post-meal routine, where Nat and Yelena tackled dishes, Bucky wiped down the table and counter tops, and Phil packaged up left overs for lunch the next day. Dinner was a team effort, even if Phil didn’t cook.

After everything was tidied up, Phil went back upstairs to give Sharon a ring, leaving the trio downstairs to their own devices. Nat and Yelena made themselves comfortable on the couch, then called Bucky over to join them since he was just standing awkwardly in the kitchen.

“I wonder if I’ve ever met him,” he speculated.

“What?” Yelena asked, leaning forward.

“I mean, I was in and out of a couple boys’ homes before I got here but I never stuck around long enough to get to know anybody, so I wonder if I ever met him before.”

Yelena sank back into the couch. “It kinda sucks that Phil can’t tell us more about him, other than his name and age.”

“But he’s fifteen, so that would make him a sophomore, right?” Nat chimed in, not breaking eye contact with her phone. “God, group homes suck.”

“You’ve been?” Bucky asked. He had always pictured the girls as the lucky kind who landed gracefully at Phil’s and avoided the heartache of the system. That’s at least how they seemed.

“Yeah, where do you think we were before here? And not knowing how to speak English, well, that put a target on my back,” Yelena said.

Bucky sat back into the reclining chair. “You know how to speak more than one language?”

“I mean, I’m rusty, but if you were to drop us off in Moscow tomorrow, we’d get by okay,” Yelena replied. “I can’t write it anymore, but I can read and speak Russian fine.”

Natasha nodded in agreement.

“Wait, so how long have you known each other?” He asked.

“We grew up together. Our moms were best friends, they did everything together—”

“Including making bad decisions,” Yelena interrupted. If Natasha’s looks could kill, Yelena would be six feet under. “What? It’s true.”

Not wanting to talk about it further, Nat changed the subject. “Yel, do you want to go dress shopping after dance on Sunday?”

“Dress shopping?” Bucky failed to make the connection.

“Yeah, homecoming is in two weeks,” Yelena said. “Nat, when’s Clint going to ask you?”

“No idea. We’ve already talked about colors though. He likes purple but I don’t know how a purple dress would look with my hair.” Nat ran her fingers through her striking auburn locks.

“What if you got a black dress, and he wore a purple bow tie or whatever?” Bucky suggested. “My god, I’m becoming a stereotype.”

The three laughed at that.

***

At half past nine, Bucky practically belly-flopped into bed. He had spent the last hour in Phil’s home office poring over profiles of local psychiatrists before one caught his eye.

The doctor’s name was Darcy Lewis. According to her profile, she graduated from Culver University two years ago with top honors and a master’s degree in psychology, then moved back to her hometown of North Albany. It then occurred to Bucky why her photo looked so familiar. He passed it at school everyday, where it hung on the wall of valedictorians.

Phil promised to call and set up his first appointment in the morning when her office was open.

Then came a soft knock on his door. He rolled back off of bed and pulled it open. Natasha was standing there in pajama pants and a hoodie. Her hair curled at the ends where water droplets saturated the shoulders of her sweatshirt from the shower she took twenty minutes before.

“Can I come in?” She asked. He opened the door the rest of the way, letting her walk in. She took a seat in his desk chair and made herself comfortable.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing after today,” she said. “I wanted to ask you earlier, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Yel or after our dinner conversation.”

Bucky sat in his bed and rested up against the headboard. “I’m better. Stuff just stacked up, and I didn’t really know how to deal with it.”

She nodded. “I get that. But if things ever start stacking up again, you can always come and talk to me. There’s only so much that Phil, or any other adult, can understand about what it’s like to be _us._ ”

“Thanks,” Bucky fiddled with the left cuff of Steve’s hoodie from earlier. He had been wearing it all night except for at dinner. He didn’t want to risk spilling something on it. Also, he still felt uncomfortable being so open about his relationship around adults. His friends were one thing, but parental units were another. Wait, _his friends._ “Everyone probably thinks I’m nuts, right?”

“That’s the thing about all of us - we all have our shit, but we don’t judge each other.” She paused. “And Phil doesn’t either.”

“He told you?”

“Nothing specific. He just asked if I knew if you _batted for the other team_ , or some sports euphemism like that, and Steve told me about what happened last night, so I figured it had something to do with that.”

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah, something like that.”

“So I just wanted to let you know that I’m here for if you need to talk or anything.” She got up and pulled the door closed behind her, but not before turning around to say goodnight.

***

“Bucky.” Phil gently nudged his shoulder. Bucky was curled up in a tight ball, wrapped up in his blankets fast asleep. It was half past ten in the morning, and Phil was on the phone with Darcy’s office. She had an opening at noon, and Phil wanted to see if Bucky wanted to go today.

“Bucky.” He nudged a little harder, trying not to startle him.

After one more gentle shake, Bucky sat straight up, yawned, and rubbed his eyes.

“Hey, I’m on with Doctor Lewis’s office. She has a half hour opening this afternoon if you want, if not we can schedule for later this week.”

Bucky yawned. “What time?”

Phil looked down at his watch. “It’s 10:34 now, and the appointment would be at noon - just as an introductory thing.”

“Yeah that’s fine.”

Phil gave him a thumbs up and put his phone back up to his ear as he stepped out of Bucky’s room, leaving the teen to lay back in bed and throw a blanket over his head. Bucky was many things, but a morning person was not one of them.

After a shower and sweeping some mousse through his hair, he felt slightly more awake, and definitely more human.

He passed the rest of the morning finishing off his assignment for art class, and about thirty minutes to noon Phil came upstairs with Bucky’s silver bottle full of coffee telling him it was time to go. He didn’t see either of the girls that morning and Nat’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

Bucky fidgeted nervously in the car. Saying he was ready to go was one thing, but actually putting one foot in front of the other and getting into the car was another. The ride was short, but Phil said he wanted go early in case she was running ahead of time, or if there was any paperwork to complete.

Doctor Lewis’s office was in downtown, just a block away from where Bucky found himself sitting by the river front the day before. The lobby was quaint, but comfortable, and the two found themselves sitting on a blue couch facing the window, filling out some forms like they had weeks before while sitting in Doctor Cho’s office. Bucky swiped a mint from a bowl on the front desk in order to quell the scent of coffee that radiated off his breath.

After flipping through the pages, Phil slid the clipboard over to Bucky. Out was a survey gaging his mood, and a short questionnaire as to what brought Bucky into her office today.

Bucky filled it in to the best of his ability while savoring the last of the sweet mint, and before he knew it, Darcy herself was calling his name from the door that lead to her office. Phil waited on the couch, giving Bucky his privacy.

Her office was unique, yet matched the color scheme from the lobby and the rest of the building. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if she preferred the mellow blues, or if it was in the lease that she couldn’t repaint. Her desk was home to various trinkets and knick-knacks, and there were a few framed prints of famous paintings hanging on the same wall as her degree certificate.

“You can go ahead and make yourself at home,” she gestured to the eclectic collection of furniture. “I’m technically Doctor Lewis, but the whole _Doctor_ title makes me feel a bit weird so I just go by Darcy. Is it okay if I call you Bucky?”

He nodded, and sat down in the chair with his back to the window. She grabbed a pen and some paper and sat down in the chair opposite him.

“So for the sake of formality, there’s a few things I want to cover with you real quick. First off, anything you say in this room is between us. Legally, I cannot disclose any information to anyone else, unless there’s an imminent possibility that you may hurt yourself or others.” She looked to him to make sure he understood.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay good, phew, now that that’s out of the way, we can treat today as a _get to know you_ session.” She smiled.

Bucky was taken aback by how talkative she was. Whatever he was expecting, this wasn’t really it, but something about her chipper demeanor put him at ease.

“Um, I don’t really know where to start,” he admitted.

“That’s okay, we can start with something easy. What’s your favorite movie?”

Bucky smiled.

By the end of the half hour appointment, Bucky appreciated how Darcy was able to segue the conversation from Star Wars to his anxiety. He couldn’t even pin point where the topic had shifted - it all happened smoothly. And, by some miracle, he went without the sinking feeling in his gut and a racing heart rate when he alluded to why he wanted to get help.

They settled on Mondays from 3:30 to 4:30 starting the following week, which gave him plenty of time to get there after school, whether he was driven or decided to walk. She even gave him an assignment of sorts: After telling her that he liked to draw, she wanted him to draw something related as to why he was coming to see her to serve as a quasi-discussion starter. He thought that was doable. He could do that.

***

When they pulled back into the driveway, Bucky caught sight of Clint sitting on his porch. As soon as Clint saw him getting out of the car, he waved for him to come over. Phil nodded as his way of giving permission, so Bucky crossed the lawn.

Clint held the front door open and practically herded Bucky inside like a sheepdog.

“Is Steve home?” Bucky asked.

“No, he’s at cross country riding his bike with the team.” Clint said, turning to go up the stairs. “Are you up to anything tonight?”

Before he could answer, a guy that looked just like Clint turned the corner, stepping right in front of them. He looked from Bucky down to Clint.

“Oh, Buck, this is my older brother Barney,” Clint introduced.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Bucky said.

Barney reached out and nudged Clint’s shoulder. Once he had his attention, his hands started moving in rapid fire. Clint returned, his hands moving swiftly. Bucky stood there awkwardly, recognizing that they were using sign language, but unable to follow along.

Barney then nodded, turned to Bucky to smile and nod, then squeezed past the two and went downstairs.

Clint opened the door to his room and gestured for Bucky to come inside. “Barney’s a junior at Gallaudet University in Washington D.C., but he’s home for the weekend on account of picking up new hearing aids. The idiot pulled his old ones out on accident when he was taking a beanie off and someone stepped on them.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Bucky said.

“Yeah. He doesn’t like to talk when he doesn’t have them in.”

“Understandable.”

“He thought your name was Bucket. He’s not as good at lip reading as I am,” Clint chuckled. “Wait, so are you doing anything tonight?”

On the floor of Clint’s room were remnants of painting supplies, poster board, flowers, and glitter, alongside easily over a hundred photos of him and Nat from over the last four years

“No, I don’t think so, why?”

Clint turned around a poster that read out _Picture us at homecoming?_ “I need you to help me set this up in her room. Phil knows, and he agreed to keep her and Yelena occupied, but I could use your help hanging everything up.”

“Yeah, sure man, I can do that.”

“Great, thank you.” Clint then did a complete 180. “Wanna learn how to sign some swear words?”

Bucky spent the next half and hour or so learning all the swear words he could sign one handed - which was a lot more than he bargained for. He now understood some of the less than friendly motions he had seen fly between Clint and Nat during government, and came to the conclusion that Ross did deserve them.

When Bucky decided to head home, it was a touch past two. His stomach was growling for some of the Chinese left overs that were in the fridge, so he took out the last of the firecracker chicken and hoped that Natasha wouldn’t come for him later.

Maneuvering around the house was an easier occurrence now. Bucky no longer felt like a stranger imposing on a family.

He took his plate up to the counter top and then ran upstairs to grab his laptop. Natasha gave him the Netflix password last week, and he was currently binge watching Parks & Recreation. He brought it downstairs, pressed play, and ate his cold plate of chicken.

After finishing eating, he rinsed his plate and slid it into the dishwasher. In a freaky coincidence of perfect timing, as he closed the door to the dishwasher, he heard the front door open. He craned his neck around the corner and saw Natasha and Yelena walk in, looking desperately tired and hauling in their dance bags.

“I need a nap,” Yelena said, dragging herself upstairs. “Oh my god the stairs hurt.”

“Where were you guys?” Bucky asked.

“Dance. It was competition season tryouts today.” Nat said, toeing off her slip on vans and following Yelena up the stairs.

“I thought you guys already had dance classes? Like tomorrow and Monday?”

Nat leaned against the stair banister. “Pre-season technique classes. We just spent the last five hours alternating between ballet tryouts and pointe evaluations.”

Bucky grimaced. He’d seen videos of pointe dancers and couldn’t imagine standing for hour on the tips of his toes. “Do you want me to put some gatorade in the fridge for you two? There’s some in the pantry.”

“Yeah, that would be really nice, thank you.” She turned and went all the way up the stairs.

A few minutes later, after he had put two blue drinks in the freezer to get them to chill faster and then settled on the couch, he could hear Nat yelling upstairs: “Seriously Yel? I called first dibs on a shower! You suck!” Followed by a, “Sorry you were moving too slow!” From Yelena, then the water in their bathroom turning on.

Bucky chuckled.

***

Dinner was a new recipe Phil wanted to try - Sicilian Chicken Soup. Bucky even helped him cook it while the girls were recuperating from their day of strenuous dancing. It was the first time Bucky helped in the kitchen to actually cook in a really long time, and he really enjoyed it.

After the pasta was added to the concoction of chicken, potatoes, carrots, and other goodies, and brought to a simmer, Bucky asked quietly, “So what’s the plan for tonight, with Clint?”

Phil stirred the contents of the pot. “I’ll keep Nat occupied with doing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, and then you can sneak Clint upstairs to help him hang up everything.”

Bucky was excited to help, but deeper down was the growing curiosity - _was Steve going to ask him, or did he have to ask Steve?_

The soup was ready about ten minutes later. Bucky kept his head down ate, afraid that his lack of a poker face may give up the surprise. Luckily, Nat was similarly invested in her soup as well. Neither of the girls complained when Bucky got a reprieve from the usual post-dinner chores.

He sent Clint a text message as soon as he heard the sink getting filled with water and soap, and a minute later the blonde was at the door carrying a box with flowers and photos under one arm, and the poster board in the other. Both avoided the creaky step and headed upstairs. Bucky held the door open to Nat’s room so that Clint could slide in and set the box on the end of her bed.

Bucky had never been in Nat’s room before. It’s not like he intentionally avoided it, but he never had a reason to come in here.

The walls were a muted purple-blue, kind of like the periwinkle oil pastel he had favored in art class on Thursday. Fairy lights were strung up in the angle between the ceiling and wall, and there were several photo frames above her desk with pictures of her and Phil, her and Yelena, her and Clint, and groups of girls in leotards and ballet shoes. Bucky could easily spot Nat in each photo by the color of her hair.

The one thing that made Bucky smile were the framed Harry Potter posters above her bed. He figured she was a fan of _something_ magical, but she played that card pretty close to her chest.

“So I was thinking, I could tie this piece of yarn on the lights over there and connect it to those over there,” Clint pointed to the other wall, “and then we could tape the back of the pictures to the string so they’ll hang across her room.”

“Okay, the only problem is that we don’t have a step stool up here, and her desk chair spins,” Bucky said, eyeing the chair.

Clint crossed his arm and thought to himself. That was one thing Bucky noticed about him, Clint never vocalized his thoughts until they were fully formed. He was sure he’d never meet another person who uses the phrase _umm_ or _let me think,_ as little as Clint did.

“What if we measured how much yarn it would take to reach across, then attach as many pictures to it as we can, then I can climb up in her chair and tie it to the lights as long as you can try to hold the chair still so it doesn’t spin?” Clint suggested.

“Yeah, that would work,” Bucky said.

They got to work, taping the photos by their top edge along the yarn they stretched across the room. It ended up being a tedious process to do one handed, but once he got into a rhythm, it wasn’t so bad. Clint also printed out a lot more photos than could fit on the one line, so they ended up cutting a second one a bit longer, so that it would hang a bit lower than the first.

Bucky got to see the photos up closer. Some he recognized were taken at school, and others at home. A few had some of those goofy filters from snapchat - an app that all of Bucky’s friends were pleading with him to get. Maybe he would now.

_Somehow_ , even after finishing taping and hanging up the two rows of photos, there were still more.

“I guess I printed way more than I needed,” Clint admitted, looking down at the ones spread out across the bed.

“I have an idea.” Bucky grabbed the roll of masking tape and slid it up his left sleeve. It fit around the bit of arm before his elbow like an awkward bracelet, but he ignored it. He gestured for Clint to follow him out into the hallway quietly with the rest of the photos.

Clint caught on to what Bucky meant, and they started taping photos up in the hallway leading into her room.

“Ready?” He asked, as they finished with the last picture. Clint nodded with a smile.

Bucky handed off the roll of tape to Clint and pulled out his phone to text Phil. Once he got the okay from Phil, he called for Natasha to come up the stairs.

It made Bucky’s heart swell when he saw Natasha’s reaction. Granted, she knew Clint was going to ask her soon enough anyway, but she had no idea how. And, it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Sorry for taking forever to upload! I finished all of my exams with minimal issues, so now I'm officially a high school graduate. It still feels weird to say that. And I'm sorry if the pacing feels weird. This could've been included in the last chapter, but I felt like it might be too long, and ehhh I don't know. Consider this part two of a three part arc that'll run from chapter 8-10. 
> 
> Also, Peter will be coming soon, I promise!! I haven't forgot about him. There are a few more things for him that I'm still figuring out.
> 
> There are a few Easter eggs in here, like Culver University, which is the college Erik Selvig teaches at. Also I don't know if Barney is deaf in the comics, but he is in my story. 
> 
> And you might have noticed that Doctor Cho has replaced Bruce Banner in this fic... It’s not a mistake, I realized that I have bigger and better plans for him in the future. :)
> 
> Finally, I have a handful of one-shots written on my account that aren't related to this story, but they're there if you want to check them out. Leave a comment if you'd like, I love hearing from all of you!


	10. Yoda Obi-Wan I want, and other Star Wars references

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you squint in the very beginning, you can see the endgame shade...)

“Okay, least favorite literary trope?” Steve asked.

“Secret twins. Or secret siblings. It’s such a cop out,” Bucky replied.

They were laying head to head on the porch, soaking up what was forecasted to be the last warm Sunday before temperatures started to drop into true New York fall territory.

“Yeah, that kind of is a cop out.”

“I mean, it makes sense in some instances,” _like Luke and Leia,_ he almost spoiled. “But if we’re talking murder mystery, it’s cheap. What about you?”

“Time travel. I mean, there’s got to be a better way to solve problems than just running and wreaking havoc in the past. Unless the whole plot is about time traveling,” Steve said. “Time travel as a panacea is dumb.”

“Ohh look at you with the big words.”

“Yeah, I heard it in YouTube video. I’m pretty sure it’s like a solution that fixes everything.” Steve exhaled. “God I’m exhausted. Getting back into the cardio saddle after taking only two weeks off has me completely drained.”

“I feel that. Phil and I have been moving furniture all morning, trying to set up the other bedroom.” Bucky leaned up onto his elbows. “Did I tell you that someone else is moving in?”

Steve turned towards him. “Man, it’s going to be a full house, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but we have the space.”

“Guy or girl?”

“A guy, his name is Peter. Don’t go getting any ideas about sweeping him off his feet though.”

Steve smiled, and cupped Bucky’s face with his hand to pull him close. “I could never.” He then pulled their lips together, and sealed the statement with a kiss.

Bucky pulled away, and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair.

“What if I grew it out?” Steve asked. “Not super long, but longer than this?”

“I think you’d look perfect, no matter how you do your hair.”

Steve moved forward to kiss him again, but it was broken up by a voice coming from inside the house.

“Hey Bucky, you ready to get a move on?” Phil called.

“Where are you guys going?” Steve asked.

“Ikea I think, to pick up _more_ furniture.” Bucky said before hollering in to Phil. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“Have fun putting it together,” Steve chuckled as he climbed to his feet.

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky held his hand out to Steve, who then pulled him up and then some. They stood chest to chest before Bucky snuck another kiss and pulled away.

“Text me later?” Steve asked.

“Of course,” Bucky smiled.

***

Bucky was no stranger to long car rides — being carted around all of mainland New York will acclimate you pretty quickly — but by the time he stepped out of the car once they finally got back from Ikea, his neck and back felt all scrunched up.

It took five trips to bring in all of the boxes from the car, and another five to bring them all upstairs. Phil and Bucky worked to assemble the furniture, and made it through the bed frame, desk, and desk chair without screwing anything together backwards. Alpine decided it would be a good time to treat Bucky’s leg like a scratching post when he was trying to help Phil move the desk against the wall. That resulted in the white cat being moved down to the living room, and the top of the stairs being blocked off with empty boxes.

A few hours later, Nat and Yelena slumped inside just as they had the day before, completely exhausted from the second and final day of dance evaluations. Despite that, they helped put together the rest of the room after dinner with Bucky, as Phil tackled the hallway in the office situation.

By the end of the night, both areas were ready.

“Looks like we’re just about done,” Phil said. “The mattress and sheets and what not should be delivered tomorrow.”

The four stood in a semi circle near the door of the bedroom, admiring the work they accomplished all in one day. Phil stretched his arms around their shoulders and squeezed them into a side hug. “I’m proud of us.” He said.

Lights out came early for them that night.

***

Bucky was startled awake. He could’ve sworn he felt something pushing up against his back, but he chalked it up to that weird limbo between being asleep and awake. He reached behind him for his phone and yanked it off the charger. It was 6:00 — he didn’t have to be awake for another hour.

_Good,_ he thought, pulling his blanket back up and over his shoulder.

Then he felt it again.

He rolled over and saw a ball of white fuzz with its limbs splayed out spastically.

“Are you serious dude?” Bucky sat up and eyed him. Alpine mewed indignantly. Bucky rolled over and closed his eyes wanting to get every minute of sleep he could, but the minute he got comfortable enough to flirt with unconsciousness, he was pawed in the back again.

“Alright, fine, I’m up!”

He swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up to stretch, then turned to pull his bedding straight. However, Alpine was curled up in the same spot where Bucky had been laying seconds before. Bucky sighed, and decided to cut his losses and make his bed later.

He got ready early and ventured downstairs. Phil was already up and sitting in the kitchen reading the morning paper. The big headline from over the weekend read _NYSDOC Cayuga Correctional Facility sustains significant damage following unusual seismic activity._ That made Bucky stop in his tracks.

“Good morning kiddo,” Phil greeted, before looking up and reading the look of concern on Bucky’s face. He followed up quickly, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. That’s just where my dad is,” He pointed to the front page. “For at least twelve more years. He got sentenced to twenty years for felony aggravated assault, abuse, and reckless endangerment of a minor, but he can get out on parole for good behavior or whatever after fourteen, so in about twelve years he could be back out.”

“Oh,” Phil wasn’t sure what to say.

“It’s a bunch of bull shit though. He gets twenty years, yet I’m stuck with this for the rest of my life,” his tone turned bitter, before he recovered. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault.”

“It’s okay kid.” Phil folded up the paper and placed it face down. “I know how that is.”

Bucky gave him a disbelieving look.

“I don’t think I told you, but my wife Melinda, and my kids, Jemma and Leo, they were killed by a drunk driver. He’s put away for a long time, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. We have these holes in our lives forever because of them, but it’s up to us to move forward.”

Both of them sighed.

“This is not how I wanted to start my morning.” Bucky mumbled.

“Me either.” Phil said. “Coffee? The pot just finished brewing.”

“Yes please.”

Phil got two mugs down out of the cabinet and filled them up to the top. They sat up at the counter without words, just appreciating each others’ company and putting the pitfalls of the justice system behind them. Or, that was until Natasha came down.

“You’re up early,” she remarked looking at Bucky.

“Yeah, well Alpine was an ass this morning. I don’t even know how he got in my room, I had my door closed.”

“Did you check under your bed?” Phil asked. Bucky shook his head no. “He’s always liked to hang out under there, even before you got here.”

“Good to know.” Bucky said.

The rest of the morning played out as usual. Yelena almost made them late since she forgot her textbook on her desk and realized when they were already half way to campus. Natasha turned back for it, which left them with less than ten minutes to get from the parking lot to their first class. It wouldn’t have been a problem for Bucky, considering his longer stride, but he was pulled aside the minute he stepped inside the front doors.

“Bucky Barnes!” Principal Fury called from across the front foyer. “My office please.”

Bucky exhaled a quiet _fuck_ under his breath and made his way through the sea of students scrambling to get to first hour.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” Fury said, holding the door open for him.

Bucky set his bag down by the leg of the chair, and took a seat, internally scolding himself for not anticipating consequences. His leg bounced nervously.

Fury sat down behind his desk and crossed his left leg over his right. “Listen, I have a very limited understanding about your situation, but I did receive an e-mail Friday afternoon from a Sharon Carter asking that your _absence_ on Friday to be excused.”

“Okay,” Bucky said quietly.

“So I signed off on it, and you’ll have until Wednesday to make up the work you missed, but on one condition.”

Bucky looked up at him, curious.

“You gotta level with me man. I want you to succeed here, but I won’t know how to help you unless you communicate, yeah?”

He nodded.

“If you ever need to clear your head, my office is always open. We have a ton of resources here to help too.” Fury offered.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now where are you headed? I’ll write you a hall pass.”

“Algebra with Rhodey.”

Fury took a piece of colored paper out of the top drawer of his desk and wrote down Bucky’s name and the time. They shook hands, and Bucky went on his way. By the time he stepped out in the hall, it was mostly empty. The bell was due to ring within the minute, so he was grateful for the pass in his hand.

He took his time walking to the math wing, taking the stairs leisurely. It’s not that he disliked algebra, but he was in a little bubble of contentment that he wasn’t ready to pop with the quadratic equation.

In class, he handed his pass to Rhodey and slid into his seat next to Sam and Clint.

“You good man?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. I’m great.” He meant it.

***

“Hey, so later, would you want to meet at Skippy’s?” Steve came up behind Bucky in the hallway and wrapped his arms around his shoulders after their shared fifth period class.

Bucky leaned his head back into Steve. “I would love to. What time?”

“Is around 3:30 okay? I’m turning in my uniform today since I’m not running at regionals this weekend, and I have a few short errands to do right after school.”

“Yeah that’s fine with me.” Bucky turned around to face him.

“You’re amazing,” Steve said with a smile.

Bucky’s cheeks pinked at the compliment. “Aw, I try.”

“Alright lovebirds, that’s enough,” Tony walked past and grabbed hold of Bucky’s backpack and began pulling him down the hall. Well, pulling was an overstatement, but it was enough of a movement to knock him slightly off balance and step backwards from Steve. “I need to pick Buckaroo’s brain in the lab.”

***

At the end of the school day, it seemed like everyone was busy. Bucky felt like he was missing something, the way everyone was acting so rushed and quiet.

“You ready to head home?” Natasha asked, twirling her keys in her hand.

“Actually I was going to meet Steve for coffee in a little over a half hour, so I was planning on just walking there. I found a path through a neighborhood to down town on Friday so,” Bucky said.

“Oh okay, do you need any cash? I can lend you some if you need it,” Nat offered.

Bucky shook his head. He still had the money Phil gave him from a few weeks ago tucked away in a zipper pocket of his backpack. “I’m okay, I have money.”

“Okay, see you later then,” Nat said.

“Yeah, see you at home,” Bucky said, before turning around and walking towards the door.

As soon as he was outside, Nat pulled out her phone and opened up to the old group chat.

**Nat: Okay plan B, he said he was going to walk to dt..**

**Nat: Is everything else still on course?**

**Steve: Yeah, Clint and I are almost there**

**Maria: I really hope you’re not texting and driving Cap**

**Steve: I’m stopped at a light**

**Maria: Still**

**Sam: Let us know how it goes man**

**Steve: Will do**

Walking outside was a nice change of pace for Bucky. As soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk and put his earbuds in, the world slowed down.

He loved the colors and the way the greens morphed into yellows and oranges. It was the perfect hoodie weather too. Bucky loved fall, but couldn’t wait for winter. Snow was his favorite — the way it fell unbothered in crystals of all shapes and sizes. There was probably a metaphor buried somewhere in that sentiment, but Bucky didn’t think too hard about it.

The walk he took today was far more enjoyable than the one he took last week. After passing through the neighborhood, he ventured onto the river walk and took the long way through downtown. He passed by some store-front windows and signs that read _We’re Hiring, apply inside!_ Getting a job was something he had always thought about, but he’d never stuck around one place long enough to make it work until now. Bucky filed that away onto a list of things he wanted to ask Phil about later.

Bucky had to do a double take as he passed by a door with a Gorillaz sticker on it, surrounded by other band logos. He looked up at the sign and decided to take a look inside, since he wasn’t meeting Steve for another twenty minutes or so.

The Groove was probably the coolest store Bucky has been in in several years. The inside was dimly lit by Edison bulbs and neon lights, while vaguely familiar nineties music flowed through the speakers. There was a girl - probably in her twenties - sitting behind the counter wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt, who gave Bucky a small wave as he walked in.

The vinyl record store was lined with shelves and carts of LP’s and 45’s. CDs were stored up against the east wall along side a jukebox.

“Can I help you find anything?” The girl asked.

“Oh, no I’m okay, I’m just looking,” Bucky said. “Thank you though.”

She leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet back up on the counter and opened her book. “Sure thing. Let me know if that changes.”

Bucky nodded, and flipped through the sleeves of vinyl in the cart closest to him. He appreciated the aesthetic of music in a physical form, even if he didn’t have a way to play it.

After browsing for a few more minutes, he turned towards the door, eager to meet up with Steve. Before he could leave though, the girl behind the counter called after him again.

“First time in?”

“Uh, yeah. I just moved to town recently,” he said.

“Do you want a sticker?”

“Um, yeah, that would be cool.”

She ducked behind the counter and then produced a sticker with the store logo on it, and handed it over. He noticed a metal medical ID bracelet peeking out from under her sleeve, but before he could look at it any closer, she pulled her hand pack and drummed her fingertips on the counter top.

“Thanks,” Bucky said. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Carol. You?”

“Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you. Hope to see you back in here soon,” she smiled.

He pocketed the sticker and gave her a wave before heading out the door. As he turned the corner towards the coffee shop, he spotted Steve’s blue truck parked in a spot by the curb. Not even a second later, Steve stepped out and started jogging towards Bucky.

“Hey you!” Steve said.

“Hey,” Bucky smiled and reached forward to give Steve a hug before the two starting walking towards the building. “I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy with your ankle.”

“I know, I know, but I can’t help it if I get excited to see you. My self-preservation skills kinda go out the window.”

Bucky shook his head and laughed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Well, our coffee awaits,” Steve said. He held the door open for Bucky, but as soon as the dark haired teen crossed the threshold into the shop, he paused. A familiar tune caught his ear.

“Steve, why is the Imperial March playing?”

“Is that what this is?” He said, trying to flatten out an incoming grin.

“You’re a terrible liar Rogers,” Bucky retorted. Steve took him by the hand and walked to the booth where they sat on their first date. It looked the exact same, except for the poster propped up against the window that made Bucky’s heart melt.

**Homecoming?**

**(Yoda Obi-Wan I want to go with…)**

Leave it to Steve to have written out the sign in _the_ Star Wars font, and have drawn a stormtrooper and Yoda on the sides.

“So, what do you say?” Steve asked.

“Yes! Of course I’ll go with you!” Bucky threw his arms around Steve and pulled him close. In the background he could hear the other shop patrons clapping.

“And you were all nervous Steve! I told you he would say yes.” Bucky turned and saw Clint holding up his phone in the booth behind them. “I got the whole thing on video.”

***

Come Wednesday morning, the entire house was buzzing with nervous energy. Peter was supposed to come today while the three were at school. Bucky was excited to have another guy in the house - having two foster-sisters is great and all, but he couldn’t help but to feel a bit left out at times.

However, that excitement dissipated when they got home and were greeted by Phil on the porch.

“His situation is a bit more precarious than I thought,” Phil started.

“Is he here?” Nat interrupted.

“Yeah, he’s upstairs. But he’s probably going to need his space for a while, so don’t bombard him, okay?” Phil finished.

The three agreed, then went about their own business.

At dinner time, Phil cooked grilled chicken and had skewers of vegetables on the side. Bucky figured that Phil could open his own restaurant if he wanted to — the man was like a never exhausting cooking machine. Dinner was also the first time they saw Peter.

Despite the girls carrying on the usual dinner conversation, the boy was quiet and kept his eyes cast towards his plate. He ate quickly, and after receiving confirmation from Phil, placed his plate and silverware on the counter and headed back upstairs. The familiarity of the awkward first dinner stung Bucky again. He really felt for the kid, even if he didn’t so much as introduce himself.

“It might take him a while to adjust,” Phil said quietly after they heard a door close upstairs.

“What happened to his eye?” Yelena whispered in regard to the yellowed welt under Peter’s right eye.

“There was a situation with another kid last week,” Phil answered bluntly.

“Phil—” Natasha said, the tone of her voice laced with concern.

“He’s been at the receiving end of a few unkind fists. It’s not my story to tell, and I’m going to respect his privacy, but it’s also my job to make sure you all feel safe. I’ve been assured by both him and his SW that he’s okay,” Phil said. “Okay?”

They nodded.

Later that night, Bucky paced around his room. He really wanted to take a shower, but he needed to tell Peter since the bathroom was connected to both of their bedrooms and he didn’t feel like being walked in on mid-shampoo. That’s not the first impression he wanted to make.

He finally decided to suck it up, walk out into the hallway, and knock softly on Peter’s door. He hoped Peter was still awake, since it was only half past eight.

A few seconds passed before the door opened slowly.

“Hey, I’m Bucky,” he said softly.

“Hi.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to take a shower, so if you hear the water running, it’s just me.”

“Okay.”

Bucky contemplated ending the brief interaction there, but decided to add one more thing: “And if you need anything, I’m the next door over.”

“Thanks.”

“Goodnight,” Bucky said.

“‘Night.” Peter closed the door softly.

***

It wasn’t until Friday that Peter and Bucky had more interaction other than the daily _‘I’m going to shower now,’_ and the _‘Okay.’_

Steve was sitting next to Bucky on the couch, finally watching Empire after giving into Bucky’s not so subtle comments about how much he loved the homecoming proposal even though Steve hadn’t seen Yoda on screen yet.

They were about ten minutes into the movie when Bucky heard the tell-tale creak of the bottom stair. He looked over the back of the couch and saw Peter standing in the hall.

“Episode Five?” He asked.

“Yeah, we just started it. Want to come and watch?” Bucky asked.

Peter shifted from side to side.

“There’s plenty of room on the couch and I definitely popped too much popcorn,” Bucky continued.

“Yeah, okay.” Peter padded over and sat on the other end of the couch. Every few minutes he would reach for a small handful of popcorn from the oversized bowl on the coffee table.

Bucky smiled as he rested his head on Steve’s shoulder. He arrived at the conclusion that watching the resistance take down a few AT AT walkers was more satisfying when he shared the company of others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pride Month everyone!!  
> I've been trying to finish up this chapter for a few days now, so sorry for the delay. I'm hoping to get everything situated soon enough where I'll be able to post on a more regular schedule.
> 
> There's a few little things I'd like to point out. First of all, I actually heard the word panacea in a YouTube video! It's the Everything Great about Endgame video by CinemaWins. It's a great channel, I definitely recommend checking him out if you aren't familiar with them. The other trope (secret siblings) is a bit more semi-meta commentary about another movie I recently watched and was very disappointed with (spoiler alert: coughcoughASimpleFavorcoughcough).
> 
> Also, yes, Carol Danvers has arrived. Is that what I intended when I first started writing? Not really, but now I have a whole other story thread for her, so we'll be seeing her again.
> 
> I do have a direction I'm taking this fic in, but I have quite a bit of open space timeline wise, so if there's any character interactions/ events you'd like to see, comment below and I'll try to make them work in the plot!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and please leave a comment if you'd like. I love talking to you guys, and your messages make my day. :)
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for updates, bts, and other fandom shenanigans: http://margots0dyssey.tumblr.com/


	11. Homecoming (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, yes, this is a two part chapter! Part 2 will be up shortly. As a whole, the chapter was getting close to 10k words, so I decided to break it up.

“The Homecoming dance is this this weekend, right?” Darcy asked during their first official appointment.

Bucky nodded.

“Are you going?” Darcy realized early in their session that Bucky wasn’t much of a sharer on his own, so she continuously asked him questions in order to get a better understanding of the thoughts rattling inside his head.

“Yeah, my boyfriend asked me last week. Phil’s taking me and Nat and Yel shopping for a dressy clothes tonight.”

“Aw that’s fun!” She asked. “How do you feel about that?”

Bucky crossed his right leg over his left. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m excited, but it feels kinda weird.”

“What does?”

“Clothes shopping with Phil. Its weirdly domestic, like a father and son thing.” He fiddled with the cuff of Steve’s hoodie. He decided to wear it to his appointment since he remembered Darcy’s office was on the cooler side of normal the last time he was there, and it also provided him with a sense of security.

“Is it something you wish you did with your father?” Something she did pick up on clearly from their first meeting, was that a lot of Bucky’s self doubt was delivered to him by his dad.

“Hell no. He was a homophobic asshat,” Bucky said. “It just makes me wonder how things in my life would’ve been different.” He paused. “It’s my first dance too. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I don’t really know what to expect.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time,” Darcy encouraged. “Is it the not-knowing that makes you anxious?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know. Like, I’m not ashamed of who I am, but also it’s a big event with a lot of people there. And adult chaperones too.”

Darcy honed in on that last part. “Is it the adults that make you nervous?”

“No.” Bucky said quickly.

Darcy gave him a look that suggested she thought otherwise.

“It’s not like that,” He followed up.

“Then what’s it like?”

Bucky sat with that for a minute.

“I’m sick of people looking at me like I’m different. People my age look past everything and roll with it, but adults tend to coddle or judge. I’ve only known four adults that don’t BS me at every turn, and that’s you, Sharon, Phil, and my father. And, the kicker is that one of them is in jail, then of course it’s yours and Sharon’s job to give it to me straight, and Phil still flinches at every accidental hand joke he makes.”

Bucky chuckled. “I swear, I’ve never heard someone say ‘ _hey, can you give me a hand with this,’_ or _‘that’s pretty handy,’_ more than him. Then every time after and without fail, he blushes and apologizes.” He sighed. “I’m just tired of people treating me like I’m fragile. I’m not. If I was, I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

Darcy nodded. This was a major breakthrough for him, whether he knew it or not.

***

Bucky flipped through the rack of ties at the store. He and Steve decided on sporting blue, but left it at that — they were treating it almost like a wedding, and vowed not to show each other their outfits until the night of the dance. Natasha was going to be the middle man, the one who would advise about things like boutonnieres.

He and Phil had picked out a pair of grey slacks and a navy blue dress shirt. Natasha even found a pack of Star Wars crew socks for Bucky to sport within the pair of caramel colored Oxford’s that Phil insisted he get. Although Bucky just about choked when he saw the price tag on the leather dress shoes, Phil remained adamant about them. He reasoned that Bucky would need a pair of dressier shoes for college interviews, and even though Phil respected the red-high-top Converse life, one pair of canvas shoes wouldn’t last forever.

His eyes fell upon a charcoal colored tie. It looked like metal when the light hit it just right, showing off a cascading gradient of hues, from black all the way to ash. Natasha passed by the rack on her way towards the cart, looked from Bucky to the tie he was admiring, and simply said, “Yes.”

In the fitting room, Bucky fiddled with the shirt buttons. He got the ones towards the bottom just fine, since she shirt had a bit more give, but he had a harder time with the two closet to the top. The pants were cropped at the ankle and slim fitted, which Bucky appreciated. He was on the thinner side and didn’t want to look like he was drowning in fabric. After tucking the hem of the shirt into the waistband of the pants, he stepped out into the larger area, where Phil, Peter, and Natasha were waiting.

Natasha spun around on the mirrored corner platform in her dress. She and Clint took Bucky’s advice: She got a black dress and Clint got a purple bowtie. It was a slim fitting with straps that criss-crossed in the back. Bucky couldn’t imagine anyone else wearing that dress as well as Nat was.

Yelena came up behind her in her own olive green dress. It had an a-frame skirt with small gems that accentuated her waist. It suited her well.

Bucky’s eyes fell upon Phil and Peter, who were sitting on a bench. Peter was tucked away in his a blue hoodie from his old school and texting feverishly on his phone. Phil whistled when he saw his three all dressed up.

Within the hour, they were all squeezed back into Natasha’s SUV, since it was the biggest car out of the two. Bucky and Peter were sitting the back with Yelena in between them.

“So, Peter, when are you starting school?” Bucky asked curiously. He realized that he was already enrolled and starting classes within his first week, but that Peter hadn’t even been to campus yet.

“I’m still waiting for my transcripts and test scores to be sent over from Midtown. My counselor said they should be here by tomorrow. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get set up though.”

“What kind of classes did you take?”

“I took a lot of science classes, so I was in AP Physics, AP Chem, and a robotics lab, along with English, Spanish, and the mandatory gym class. I want to see if I can test out of Spanish though, Mr. Delmar tutored me all summer, so I pretty much know everything we’re learning in class already.”

Natasha glanced back at Peter in her rear-view mirror. “You might give Tony a run for his money. Howard’s pressuring him to graduate early and get in at MIT, but of course since his father suggested it, Tony wants to take his sweet time in school.”

“Wait,” Peter’s eyes grew wide. He hastily typed into his phone, before looking up. “Tony Stark?!”

Natasha nearly slammed on the brakes, startled by Peter’s unexpected outburst.

“You guys go to school with Tony Stark, _the_ son of Howard Stark of _the_ Stark Industries?” He looked to Bucky for an answer.

“Yeah,” he replied casually.

“Oh my god, that is so cool!”

“Don’t let Tony hear you say that, I literally can not handle him if his ego gets any bigger,” Nat said, sighing. “Anyway, there’s the big Homecoming football game this Friday, are any of you up to going?”

Bucky remembered hearing about the game at school all last week. Sam wouldn’t shut up about it because he was so excited. They were playing their conference rival, Albany Central, and it was expected to be a close game. Bucky didn’t know much about football, but he could get behind hanging out with all of his friends and eating a ton of concessions.

“Can I go even if I’m not a student yet?” Peter asked.

“Hopefully we’ll have you registered by Friday,” Phil said, turning back from the passenger seat. “But I don’t see why you wouldn’t be able to go.”

“Yeah I’m down to go,” Bucky said. “Steve, Sam, and Maria are going too I’m pretty sure.”

“So are Clint and Tony.” Nat said. “Maybe we’ll go out to dinner before and get some real food into our system before we pig out on junk food.”

***

Of course, the one Tuesday Bucky is actually paying attention in English, he gets a pass to the main office. Hiddleston walked it over and placed it on his desk while continuing the class discussion about the Great Gatsby without skipping a beat.

“What’s that for?” Steve whispered, leaning over Bucky’s shoulder to see.

Bucky looked at it. It was printed on blue paper and read:

**_To the Academic Advising office of Ms. Peggy Carter_ **

**_For - J. Barnes_ **

**_Please come down whenever convenient this hour._ **

“Ms. Carter wants to see me today.” Bucky said. “I wonder why.”

“Probably college and career planning,” Stevereplied.

Their teacher gave them a stern look, causing them both to hush up quickly.

Bucky decided to go down to the main office after class, thinking that missing the first few minutes of art wouldn’t be a huge deal. Plus he’d rather be late, than have interrupted Hiddleston in his analysis of the green light in the novel.

He handed his pass over to the secretary, and she had him take a seat while she told Peggy he was there. A moment later, he was waved into her office.

“Good morning James,” she greeted in her polite British accent.

“Good morning Ms. Carter.”

“Here, take a seat,” she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. “Usually in the spring, I start calling down juniors to have a chat about their plans after high school, but I wanted to call you down now since you have a few extra variables that may impact your decisions.”

“Okay.” He bounced his leg nervously.

“What are your thoughts on what you might want to pursue after you graduate?”

He thought for a moment. “I have no idea. There was a time, just last year, where I wasn’t even sure I was going to graduate high school.”

“Well, just looking at your grades now, you’re doing excellent in your classes.” She looked at his transcript on her computer. “If you could do anything, what would you want to do?”

Bucky pondered that. Before he lost his land, he thought he might’ve been a musician, or maybe have joined the army to pay for college. But now, neither were an option and he felt aimless. He was taking classes just to get his diploma and move on.

His thoughts fell back on the conversation he and Phil had Monday morning. Maybe if the prosecution had fought harder in his father’s case, he would’ve gotten a sentence he actually deserved. He also figured that it could only take one person to make a difference in the lives of others.

“Maybe I would go to law school,” he admitted. “Or study pre-law, then go to law school. I think that’s how that works.”

“That’s great! There are a lot of great programs here an Albany, and even more in New York City.”

Peggy typed a few things into her computer. “I can compile some information for you and have it ready by the end of the day. However, these courses are highly competitive. Your grades are on par with others who have gotten into them in the past, but you may want to consider getting involved with some extra-curricular activities to set yourself apart.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said.

The bell rang for third hour.

“You’re going to art next, right?” She confirmed. Bucky nodded. As she started writing him a pass, she brought up an idea. “I know prep for the spring musical starts the week after Thanksgiving break.”

Bucky laughed. “I don’t sing or dance like that Ms. Carter.”

“Maybe not, but they do need kids on crew to help decorate the set and make props, which does require some creativity that I’m sure you harbor.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, taking the pass from her.

“Don’t forget to stop back down at the end of the day, I’ll have those papers for you.”

“Thank you.” He grabbed his bag and stepped out. In the empty hallway, he pulled out his phone and sent Steve a text.

**B: You were right about the pass. I guess career planning is starting now…**

Bucky spent the rest of the day thinking about his meeting. _Pre-Law_. _Could he really be a lawyer eventually?_ At the last bell, he returned to the office. Peggy left a stack of pamphlets and printouts at the front desk for him. He took them and met up with everyone outside.

“Whatcha got there?” Nat peered at the papers he was holding.

“Oh, uh, just some school stuff,” Bucky said.

“Huh, I didn’t know you wanted to be a lawyer,” she remarked.

“Yeah, I didn’t really know college was an option for me until now.”

Nat took him by the sleeve of his hoodie and steered him away from the group. “Can we _sidebar_ for a second?”

Bucky nodded his head, rolling his eyes at the pun. “What’s up?”

“So my dance coach pulled me aside yesterday after class, and she says I’ve made the platinum level, which is the highest level for ballet in our studio. She thinks I can actually go far with dance, like even study it in college and perform professionally.”

“That’s awesome!” Bucky said. “Congrats!”

Nat’s face fell. “I just, I don’t know what to do. I didn’t accept the spot on the team yet because it’s a big decision. I’d be at the studio nearly everyday, and I’d burn through pointe shoes a lot faster than I already do, so that’s an added cost.”

“What did Phil say?”

She exhaled deeply. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Does Yelena know?”

“Yeah because she was there when I found out. I told her to stay quiet about it though since I’m still thinking.”

“Okay, if time and money weren’t a concern, would you do it?”

“I think I would, yeah,” she said.

“You should talk to Phil about it.” Bucky said. “You know, his screensaver on his desktop is a picture of you and Yel dancing. I’m sure he won’t have a problem with it.”

Natasha smiled and nodded her head, reluctant to agree that Bucky was right.

***

Later that night, Phil knocked on Bucky’s door. He was sitting at his desk, thumbing through the college papers, so he leaned over in his chair and pulled the door open. All of the make-up work from his unplanned absence on Friday was just finished and put back in his bag to turn in tomorrow.

“Hey kiddo, you busy?” Phil asked.

“No, not really, why?”

Phil came in and sat on the edge of the bed — which Bucky made when he got home from school again, since Alpine made himself right at home the second after he got out of bed. “So, I was wondering if you’d be interested in getting your driver’s license…”

“I don’t have a car, or a job to pay for it with—”

“Well, I was thinking that since Lola is nearly street ready, you could use the Chevy. It’s already paid off and all three cars are already insured.”

“Oh wow,” Bucky said. “But what about gas?”

“I cover Nat’s because I want her to focus on school and dance, and not worry about having to get a job if she doesn’t want to right now, so I would do the same for you.”

He was shocked. Bucky knew Phil was generous (and probably sitting on a ton of money), but he never could’ve imagined this. “I don’t even know what to say to that, uh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil smiled. “You have your permit, right?”

“Yeah, I keep it in my bag.”

“Would you want to go driving with me sometime? Then we can see getting you over to the DMV for your driving test soon, if you’re okay with that. I’d feel better if you had the ability to drive yourself places since Nat’s going to be spending a lot of time at the dance studio now.”

Bucky smiled. She must’ve told Phil and decided to take the new level in dance.

“I want to make sure you have your independence, so you aren’t always waiting for a ride.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said.

Phil got up and was about to get himself ready for bed, but Bucky had one more question. “Hey Phil, if I wanted to get a job, could I?”

“If you really want to, I don’t see why not. As long as you keep your grades up though.”

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky said, looking down at his desk and the Colombia pre-law print out. “That won’t be a problem.”

“That’s good. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Phil closed the door behind him, and Bucky turned back to what he was reading. A few seconds later though, there came a more timid knock at his door. He got up to answer it, and this time it was Peter.

“Hey,” Bucky said.

“Hey, uh, Phil said I’m getting registered at school tomorrow.”

“That’s good!” Bucky said. “So your transcript and stuff transferred over?”

Peter nodded. “You said there’s a robotics lab, right?”

“I’m taking it this semester with Tony. You should try to get it on your schedule if you can,” Bucky said. “It’s a lot of fun, and Tony’s always working on something fun, that almost always gets us into a little bit of trouble.”

Peter perked up at that, “I actually brought something I was working on, if you wanted to see it.”

“Yeah, that would be cool.”

Bucky followed Peter into his room, where he pulled out a small drone from his suitcase. He noticed that Peter wasn’t moved in at all, for being in the house for nearly a week. His clothes were folded up and placed back in his bags. Bucky guessed that the drawers in the dresser and desk were empty, and even realized that Peter never left his toiletries in the bathroom.

“I’m still working on the flight mechanism, but it’s got a small camera here, and it can crawl.” He pointed out the certain features, and then dug out a hodgepodge looking remote control.

“Woah, so it’s like a drone?”

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Peter said. “If I can figure out how to get it to fly. This blade here is meant to get the air moving, but it’s not strong enough.”

Bucky held his hand out, wanting to see it closer. The way the main motor and the cameras were placed, it almost looked like a spider. “What if you added another small fan here, a half inch above the bigger one? It might pull up more of an air current and take the strain off the larger one, and it would keep the aesthetic.”

Peter lunged for his backpack and flipped it open to a random page and with a pen in hand, began writing down Bucky’s suggestions.

“But this is fantastic! You and Tony are going to get along well I think. I can introduce you officially tomorrow.” Bucky handed Peter’s project back to him. “And when you’re picking classes, tell your advisor that you want in sixth hour robotics lab with Mr. Pym.”

“Okay,” Peter said, wearing a big grin. 

“And if you want any help getting settled in, I’m next door,” Bucky said.

“Oh,” Peter looked at his bags. “That’s okay, thanks though. I don’t want to spread out too much because my Aunt May said she’s doing better and she has her thirty day chip, so I don’t know how long I’ll be here for.”

Bucky forced a smile. “My offer still stands. Have a good night.” He headed back to his room and shuffled out of his clothes and into pajamas. From his experience with living someone with an addiction, he knew that progress could be easily undone. He didn’t want to discredit the kid’s aunt, but he knew better.

After brushing his teeth and turning off the light, he folded into bed, wishing he never brought up unpacking at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, where to begin...  
> Its been a hot minute since I've updated last, so I'm really sorry about the wait. I have a whole pile of wip's that I'm working on, and that diverted my time away from this story. But, I don have a few new things uploaded, so please check them out if you'd like!
> 
> A few Easter eggs I'd like to point out:  
> \- Colombia is where a certain favorite character of mine went to school to become an avocado at law. He may or may not make an appearance in this fic eventually.... And if you haven't seen Daredevil on Netflix, I highly recommend it.   
> \- Peter's drone is meant to look like the one that lives in his suit in Homecoming. He may or may not start calling it droney in the future.  
> \- All of the described Homecoming attire in this chapter (and next chapter too) are related to some in-universe detail. (Bucky's tie looks like the silver metal arm, Yelena's dress is olive green like her vest in the BW trailer... etc. The navy scheme for Steve and Bucky's apparel may or may not be a nod to Steve's stealth suit in ca: tws. Maybe. ;) )
> 
> Also, I will be posting reference pics and the Homecoming playlist that goes along with the second part of this chapter on my Tumblr! Check it out if you'd like. I also update the progress on my pics there too: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/margots0dyssey
> 
> Please leave a comment if you'd like! I've missed all of you, and I promise, part two is well and truly on its way. :)


	12. Homecoming (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two of the Homecoming chapters is here!
> 
> Also, if you'd like to see the music I listened to while writing this fic, I have it up on my new Twitter. The like is in the end notes if you're interested. Happy reading!

Introducing Tony and Peter after school was probably the most animated Bucky saw Peter. The two talked about robotics and physics and chemistry at light speed, leaving the rest of their group standing in awe.

“Huh, finally, someone who speaks English,” Tony clapped Peter on the back.

“Is that just what happened?” Steve asked incredulously.

Off to the side, Clint and Nat were signing to each other before Clint turned back to address the group. “Okay, so I was thinking, movie night tonight at my place?”

“It’s Wednesday,” Sam piped in.

“So? I’ll order a few pizzas because we’re celebrating. And we can call it a night at ten since I know some of us need our _beauty sleep._ ” He angled that towards Tony, who took it in stride.

Steve looked confused. “What are we celebrating?”

“First of all, Barney went back to Galludet — which you would know — and more importantly, this is Natasha’s last week of freedom for the foreseeable future.” He turned towards her. “We need to get you a shirt that says property of Red’s Dance Studio.”

She shrugged, unable to control an oncoming smirk.

“I mean, I’m in,” Tony said.

There was a general consensus of yes’s in the group.

“Okay, but no more scary movies Clint. The last time you picked and we watched Us, I didn’t sleep with the lights off for a week.” Sam crossed his arms. Steve stifled a laugh at that, to which he received a swift elbow in the side.

“Nah, I was thinking we could watch Weird Science. It looks funny, plus there’s this actor in it that I swear looks just like Tony.”

That night, all nine of them cozied up in Clint’s basement. Bucky, Steve, Nat, and Clint all settled on the couch, Tony and Peter took the gaming chairs that were pushed up against the wall, and Sam and Maria settled up against the front of the couch, sitting in-between Bucky and Clint’s legs. Yelena curled up with a blanket on Steve’s desk chair, which he pulled out of his room for her to sit on.

And a few minutes into the movie, the room was in uproar.

“You look just like him dude!” Sam leaned forward and pointed at Tony.

“I do not!” Tony argued. “I look nothing like him.”

“I agree, I don’t see it,” Maria added.

“Okay, wait, let's put it to a vote,” Steve leaned forward. “Who doesn’t think Tony looks like a young _Robert Downey Jr._?”

Tony and Maria raised their hands.

“Okay then who thinks he does?”

Everyone else raised their hands, including Peter.Tony reached over and nudged Peter. “Come on man, I thought we were supposed to be friends.”

Then the doorbell rang upstairs. “Oh pizza’s here!” Steve bounded up the stairs to go get it.

By the time the end credits rolled, both large pizza boxes were empty and everyone was getting tired, whether they wanted to admit it or not. They all parted ways soon after, and Nat, Yel, Bucky, and Peter crossed over the lawn to get back home.

Three of them were quiet and ready to call it a night, however, Peter was still wanting to discuss the merit of the movie and the _science_ behind it. “Don’t get me wrong, it was really funny, but also there’s no way the internet is capable of building a woman. I’ll have to text Ned about it, he’d probably get a laugh out of it.”

“Who’s Ned?” Bucky asked.

“Oh, he’s like my best friend. We’re probably going to hang out next weekend when I get to go visit my aunt.”

“That’s nice!” Natasha added. She pulled out her house key and unlocked the front door.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, because I love it here,” Peter said quietly once all four had stepped inside. “But I miss the city.”

The other three nodded. None of them had lived in the big city, but they could imagine the culture shock that same with moving from there to a quiet suburb.

***

Friday rolled around faster than the earlier part of the week had. Bucky found himself growing more excited for the game and dance by each passing hour. He didn’t really participate in spirit week, but today’s theme was school colors, so he wore Steve’s hoodie in an attempt to show his _Avenger’s Pride_.

Most of the teachers caught their students’ drift of not wanting to work, and went easy on classroom assignments, which worked well on Peter’s first day. Turns out, he was taking pretty much all upperclassmen-level classes, that put him in the same paths as Tony and Maria through out the day. He was able to swing sixth hour robotics lab into his schedule, so he shared that class with Bucky and Tony. Seeing Peter and Tony really hit it off made Bucky feel better about potentially dropping the lab for second semester. The thought of going to college and studying law occupied a large space in his mind, and he felt that he should maybe consider taking classes that would better prepare him for that. As much as he liked tinkering around in the lab with Tony, robotics didn’t really fit in.

They wrapped up The Great Gatsby in English, and were given a new assignment — they were supposed to pick a book they read in middle school, and read it again while completing journals. Bucky settled on The Outsider’s, since that was one of the assigned books he actually read.

There was something in that book that he remembered: Stay Golden. Now, Bucky wasn’t a big reader, but that stuck out to him the most out of everything he had read so far.

He could stay golden. 

Deep down, Bucky knew that gold was the most malleable metal. Soft, and easily reshaped — but maybe that was the point. He could reshape himself, perhaps into something better and more beautiful than before. He reckoned he deserved that.

The rest of the day blurred past. Bucky, Steve, and Sam left lunch early to head for the library to pick their books for class. Steve picked The Westing Game, and Sam picked Flowers for Algernon. At first they thought the it was too easy, but who were they to turn their noses to a simple assignment?

“Aw, your ID picture is cute,” Steve said looking over Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky just had it taken the week before. Underneath the photo read _Barnes, James B._ And his student ID number, which he had yet to memorize.

“Thanks,” he turned to give Steve a kiss on the cheek, to which Sam groaned.

“Ugh, stop all that _PDA_ in the library!” He smacked both of them with the back of his book.The two smirked, then walked their selections up to the front desk to check them out.

Bucky ended up walking past the main office on his way to sixth hour. _Should I go in and talk to Carter?_ It had been a few days since he’d seen her last, and if he wanted to see about changing his schedule for the spring, he should probably talk to her soon.

He crossed over into the threshold of the office and walked up to the front desk.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if Ms. Carter was in today?”

“Let me check for you,” the secretary got up from her chair and poked her head into Carter’s office. “Come on back.”

Bucky shuffled back into her office, where she greeted him.

“Okay, I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about a few days ago, and that’s what I want to do, so I feel like I should be taking classes geared more towards that.”

“Of course! Let me see what we can do.” What class are you headed to next? I’ll email your teacher for you.”

She handed him a course catalog of classes that only run for a semester, while sending a brief email to Pym.

He flipped through the pages. The sheer number of classes this school offered was insane.

“Okay, it looks like the electives you’re taking next semester are Advanced Drawing, Advanced Placement Geography, and Robotics Lab. I would recommend keeping Geography because you can never go wrong with additional social studies credits.” She said. “Are there any courses in there that you’re interested in taking?”

He looked down at the sheet. The only _law_ class the school offered was a dual credit ‘Intro to Business Law’ class offered through the local community college, but it was for seniors only, so he’d have to save it for next year. “I was thinking I would keep the art class too, but I don’t really know if robotics is something that would be, well, beneficial.”

“Well, something that colleges look for is volunteer hours, so if you weren’t sure about taking a second semester of robotics lab, you could fill out an application to be library aide, or if you wanted to take a gym class, you could be a P.E. leader. However, you shouldn’t feel pressured to change classes if you don’t want to.”

“Well what are those like?” He asked, wanting to explore more options.

“Well in the library, you would help re-shelve books and scan in returned books,” she explained. “For the gym class, you’d be placed in a freshman or a 100 level gym class and help the teacher by leading stretches and games.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose at the second option. “I’m not big on gym classes, so I’ll probably look into the library thing.”

“It would also set you apart for the National Honors Society, if that’s something you’d be interested in applying for.”

He nodded. Maybe that would be something he’d be interested in. He’d need every leg up he could get and — if he was remembering correctly — he’d get a swanky sash to wear at graduation as well.

_Graduation._ That was a thought.

***

“You almost ready to go?” Nat called from the other end of the hallway.

Bucky grabbed his jean jacket and pulled it on over his hoodie. It was mid-October now and the weather was getting colder every day.

He, Yelena, Natasha, and Peter piled into Natasha’s car and headed towards downtown. The traffic wasn’t horrible for being a quarter past five. They were meeting everyone at a small taco joint called Habanero for a pre-game meal.

The group had to pull together three small tables so they could all sit together. The whole time they sat together, snacking and talking, Bucky couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He’d never experienced something like this before.

“Hey Clint, try some of this.” Natasha pushed a bowl of dark red salsa to him. Bucky watched intently. He knew that salsa was very spicy — it was the one he and Natasha had been sharing, and despite his tolerance to _hot_ things, it was making his eyes water. She winked at Bucky.

Clint took a large scoop. He chomped around on it for a minute, swallowed, and then started taking very deep breaths. “Holy shit that’s so spicy!” The color in his cheeks rose and his eyes watered, causing him to reach for his water and for the table erupted into laughter. Nat reached over Yelena to give Bucky a high-five.

When their waitress came around to take their order, Peter surprised them all. He ordered in perfect Spanish.

“What? I grew up in Queens, you pick up a few things.”

After the food arrived, everyone got busy eating. The game started in an hour, and even though they weren’t far from the school, they wanted to get there early to get good seats.

“Hey Hill,” Tony said between bites. “Can I borrow your anatomy textbook?”

“I’m not taking anatomy,” she said.

“Wait really? Damn. I wonder if they’ll let me check one out from the school.”

“Working on a new project Tony?” Steve asked.

“Something like that,” he said vaguely. “It can never hurt to expand my horizons, education wise.”

After they ate, they played a bit of a car shuffle, so that Clint ended up in Nat’s car, Peter ended up in Tony’s, and Bucky was sitting in the passenger side of Steve’s truck.

As they turned onto the school’s road, they could hear the commotion left over from the JV game. The students from Albany Central were easily spotted in their green apparel, as compared to maroon and navy sported by everyone from North Pointe. Tony went ahead and paid the two-dollar admission to the game for everyone in their party.

Tony also lead the way towards the front of the home-side bleachers, but not before stopping dead in his tracks. There was a strawberry-blonde girl wearing a green sweatshirt with an _AC_ school logo on it.

“Ms. Potts,” Tony said, rocking forwards.

“Tony,” she looked from the group, then back to him. “Funny running into you here.”

“Well I do go to school here,” he said, tilting his head in his own signature Stark grin.

Steve walked up behind Tony and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey man, we’re going to go get a spot.”

“Okay, yeah, cool,” he said distractedly. “Save me a seat, will ya?”

“You got it.”

Steve threw his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and lead the group up into the stands.

“Who was that?” Bucky asked when they were out of earshot.

“Her name is Pepper Potts — she’s an intern at Tony’s dad’s office. They have a _thing.”_

“A thing?”

“It’s complicated. Something about possibly losing her internship, or sending Tony to boarding school if they get caught I think. Howard thinks Tony’s too young to date,” Steve said. “So they steal moments like this outside of the public spotlight.”

He pointed down to where Tony and Pepper were standing up against the track. Tony had pulled his hood up, and they were standing side by side against the chain-link fence that separated the spectator area from the track. 

“I’m glad we don’t have to keep us a secret,” Bucky said quietly.

“Me too.”

Tony eventually came up with the rest of the group in the bleachers as the scoreboard rang out, noting the start of the pre-game events.

The dance team started their sidelines and the cheerleaders put up stunts. Bucky never understood the debate about whether or not cheerleading was a sport — as far as he was concerned, if you could left another person over your head while they did tricks in the air, you are an athlete. Case closed.

With a roll of the drums from the pep-band, the football team ran across the field. The crowd was cheering as the broadcasters read off the starting line up from the press box. An atmosphere of excitement blanketed the entire stadium as the team captains took to center field for the coin toss: The home team was to kick off, and the game began.

Without either of them noticing, Natasha had been taking candid photos of Steve and Bucky all night. They watched the game while holding hands, or leaning on each others’ shoulders. Natasha also picked up on the forlorn look on Yelena’s face as she watched the dance team at half time.

Bucky and Steve sacrificed watching the first ten minutes of third quarter waiting in line for concessions. They were sent with a list of what everyone wanted, and a wad of cash shoved in their pockets. It was starting to get pretty cold out, so Bucky and Steve decided to split a hot chocolate.

“I missed this,” Steve thought out loud as they walked back towards their friends. “I missed every home game this year because of cross country, and they away ones were ridiculously far.”

“How far?”

“I think the closest one ended up being forty-five minutes away. You could not pay me any amount of money to drive on I-90 late on a Friday night.”

Bucky grimaced. He had seen a few too many accident reports on that interstate on the news on Saturday mornings. “What if I told you that this was my first football game, ever?”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded.

“Well, it’ll be a very memorable first,” Steve said, tilting his head towards the scoreboard. “Nothing like rival schools going head to head at a homecoming game with a score like _that_.”

***

The game ended in a major upset for the visiting team. The North Pointe Avengers crushed Albany Central Bears 41-7, which left anyone wearing green sulking from the stadium gates. In the heat of the moment, students stormed the field, whooping and hollering, and celebrating a great game. Steve pulled Bucky next to him at the fifty-yard line, grabbed him by the chin, and stole a kiss. Naturally, that attracted the attention of those around them, so they were surrounded with even more cheers and applause.

It wasn’t long before the school administration ushered everyone off the field. Bucky fell into the back of Natasha’s car in a haze of victory induced adrenaline and pure happiness.

“I never thought football could be so much fun,” he conceded.

“Was it the sport, or the company?” Yelena poked.

“You’re one to talk,” Natasha said, shifting the gear of her car into reverse and joining the queue of cars waiting to leave the lot. “You spent the last half of the game cozying up to that silver-haired cross country kid.”

If they weren’t sitting in the dimly lit parking lot, Bucky was sure Yelena was blushing.

“His name is Pietro. He’s Wanda’s twin brother,” she explained. “We’re kinda going to the dance tomorrow. Together.”

“Wait what?” Natasha turned.

“We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, since me and Wanda are friends. But we talked about it, you know? He got a green tie and everything.”

“Aw that’s so cute!” Natasha jested.

“Shush _Natal’ka!_ ” Yelena said, scrunching down in her seat.

Natasha let out a hum of contentment.

Once they got home, everyone padded off to bed, eager to make the night go by quickly in anticipation for the dance. Bucky could hardly sleep. Yes, he was exhausted, but the excitement he was feeling was keeping him wired.

He pulled the small string on his lamp, which emitted a soft glow throughout the space. Moving towards the end of his bed where his bag was leaned up against on the floor, he extracted The Outsiders and started reading, in a bid to either relax himself, or get ahead of his work.

He flipped to the first page and began reading: _When I stepped out into the the bright sunlight from the darkness…_

***

Bucky drew in a deep breath. He mostly figured out how to tie his tie on his own, but he needed Phil’s help to tighten it. Maybe in the future he’d just opt for a clip-on bow tie, but he liked the finished look of the silk, and the way it laid smoothly across the buttons of his shirt.

The girls were both running around each other, and arguing over counter space in their bathroom until Nat finally gave up and asked if she could use Bucky and Peter’s in the meantime. They obliged, since all Bucky had to do to finish getting ready was brush his teeth and step through a light mist of cologne.

The whole group planed to meet at the River Walk for pictures before the dance. Bucky’s stomach was full of butterflies, and he was trying his damndest not to sweat through his shirt. This was the good kind of nerves though. When Natasha parked her car, she handed Bucky the box that held Steve’s boutonniere. She picked it up for him earlier that day.

It was a white rose, adorned with smaller sprigs of baby’s breath and a few green leaves, wrapped in a navy blue ribbon. It was perfect.

Steve looked stunning. He was wearing a baby blue button up shirt that had a spattering of dark blue dots over it in a sunburst pattern, with khaki dress pants that were loosely cuffed at the ankle. His tie was a matching shade of solid navy with a simple silver clip around the center. He was also holding a small box.

“Wow, you look…” Bucky couldn’t get the words out as he approached.

“Yeah, you too,” Steve smiled.

When it came time to pin the flower on the chest of his shirt, Bucky’s confidence wavered. Thankfully, without having to say anything, Steve picked up on the issue, and helped by pinching his shirt around the stem of the rose, so that Bucky could slide the pin through. It only took a little bit of adjusting, but it was there and it looked great.

As Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s chest to brace himself as he pinned the flower to the dark navy shirt, Bucky’s heart was hammering away behind his sternum. This was a new kind of intimacy. He watched the crease in Steve’s forehead grow as his focus increased. The pin was being difficult, but after a few more tries it made it through.

Bucky’s boutonniere was simple and elegant. There were two smaller roses centered around what Bucky thought looked like a Fern’s leaf, and a small bundle of baby’s breath. The ribbon around the stems looked just like the one he had just put on Steve, so they must have come from the same floral shop.

“You really outdid yourself Steve,” Bucky said, looking down and admiring it.

“Well,” his hand flew to the back of his neck. “Technically Natasha took care of all the arrangements, and I just picked it up this afternoon.”

“Well, either way, it’s gorgeous.” Bucky took Steve into a hug.

By the end of their picture taking, Bucky’s cheeks hurt from smiling. The parents that tagged along took so many photos: ones of just the girls; ones of just the guys; ones with the girls holding out their corsages; ones with the guys pulling up their pant legs to reveal fun socks underneath. The list goes on.

Steve handed Bucky his ticket as they approached the door to the school. The hallways were decorated with blue and white balloons, helping to sell the theme of _Under the Night Sky._ They could already hear the music down the hall.

Natasha, Yelena, and Maria all stopped off at the coat check to hand off their jackets and heels before heading into the gym.

It was completely transformed from the last time Bucky saw it, which was on his first tour of campus. Instead of harsh lights, the space was illuminated by paper lantern lights and fun LEDs, that moved around near the DJ at the front of the gym. Steve took Bucky’s hand, and they made their way as close to the front as they can, jumping and dancing the night away.

Hours passed by and the throngs of people inside thinned out. The music was going steady, playing out a melody of today’s hits that neither Bucky nor Steve went out of their way to listen to usually, but still enjoyed. Steve snuck a peek at his phone and saw that it was two minutes to ten.

“The balloons are going to drop soon,” he whispered into Bucky’s ear.

They both looked up at the net above that was tied to the ceiling rafters. It was holding over a hundred colored globes that matched the ambiance of the decorated gym and hallways.

The music started to pick up again almost on cue, then the net let go, showering the dance attendants with balloons and confetti. The moment, though the room was wildly loud and every so often the pair would catch another kid’s rouge elbow, was so personal and perfect.

Steve was so wrapped up in the way Bucky’s eyes lit up — the frosted blue of his irises reflected all of the lights in the space and the wonder of it all. He brought his hands up to cup Bucky’s cheeks, and pulled him into a kiss.

“I love you,” Bucky said softly after they broke apart.

It took both of them by surprise.

“I love you too.”

***

At the end of the night both Steve and Bucky were blissfully exhausted, but they weren’t ready to say goodnight yet. Phil was waiting on the Barton’s porch with both of Clint’s parents, enjoying what looked like a mug of hot tea.

Steve lingered by the hood of his car, waiting for Bucky to come around. Once he did, he asked quietly, “Would you maybe want to ask Phil and see if you could stay over tonight?”

Bucky looked at him and nodded, holding back a yawn.

They walked up the front steps hand in hand.

“So how was the dance?” Mrs. Barton asked.

“It was good,” Steve said.

“Yeah, really good,” Bucky followed up. “We were actually wondering if maybe I could stay the night? I could be gone before breakfast so you all wouldn’t have to worry about that—”

“Nonsense!” Mr. Barton said. “We still have a ton of food in the house since we didn’t know when Charles was going to go back to school.” He looked to his wife, who agreed. “As long as it’s okay with Phil that you stay, it’s okay with us.”

Both boys looked over at Phil.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you Phil,” Bucky said. “Let me run home real quick and put on pajamas and brush my teeth. I’ll be quick.” He gave Steve hand a squeeze before letting go. It took all of his dignity and strength not to sprint across the yard and up into the house.

Within ten minutes, he came across the yard, a short pile of clothes pinned between his arm and side, and his phone cord wrapped around his palm. Before Bucky stepped inside, he turned back to Phil and bid him a _See you tomorrow._

“Oh, uh, if there’s any funny business, be safe please!” Phil called after them.

Bucky’s cheeks turned an extraordinary shade of pink before he sputtered out, “I’m _way_ too tired to be thinking about that. Goodnight!”

Once they were headed down the stairs to the basement, Bucky chuckled, “I can’t believe he would say that.”

“It was kinda sweet though,” Steve said, pushing open his bedroom door and turning on the light. “But I agree, I am way too tired for anything like that.”

They pulled off their ties and dress clothes, then slid into their sweats and shirts without much more conversation. Bucky was expecting to maybe sleep on the couch in the other room, and was surprised when Steve pulled back his covers and sat down, patting the other side of his full size bed for Bucky to join him — and of course he obliged. As soon as he sat down though, Steve got up.

“Almost forgot to turn the lights off,” Steve chuckled. When he hit the switch, Bucky's attention was drawn upwards. Steve’s ceiling was covered with glow-in-the-dark stars and circles.

To his side, he felt Steve fold into bed. They laid on their backs with their heads toward each other — nearly forehead to forehead — and were very much aware of each other’s presence. The next words, though spoken more quietly than the first time, seemed louder than ever and reverberated through both of their chests and into their hearts.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For me, this chapter was a lot to unpack...  
> Going forward -- in order to correct pacing problems that I keep running into -- there will be a pretty significant time jump between this chapter and the next, that will take us plot-wise into the end of November. (Plot is currently early/mid October.) With that being said, I did have an idea for a Halloween inspired installation, which I could upload as a separate piece as a part of the series if you all are interested.
> 
> Also, I made a twitter account solely for talking about my writing. I'll be posting updates and little behind the scenes/ world building/ Easter egg analysis content there. I'll link that, and my Tumblr here:
> 
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/margots0dyssey  
> Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/margots0dyssey
> 
> As always, I hope you all are still staying safe and healthy. Please leave a comment if you'd like! :)


	13. November

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's November. Winter is settling in, and so is a bit of angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Ta-da! Time jump!**

Steve’s Mom passed on November second. There was a small service — Clint’s parents, Phil, his friends, and the cross country team all walked through.

He never brought up, or even outwardly exuded his Irish-Catholic background. He kept a rosary wrapped around his right hand the entire time and took part in the communion at the end of the mass.

The stained glass windows of the church cast colors around the open space. There were photos of Steve’s mom and flowers across the altar. It was unlike anything Bucky had seen.

Sitting on a church pew made him feel uncomfortable. Even being next to Steve, he couldn’t help but to hear his heart pound inside his ears. He could even feel the woodgrain through the back of his trousers pressing into the backs of his legs as a constant reminder that he didn’t belong there. However, he did his best to listen to Priest and to be there to support Steve.

_“They are at peace with God. The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God, no torment shall ever touch them. In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, their going looked like a disaster, their leaving us, like annihilation; but they are in peace—”_

Following the service, the small group of them stood outside in the church cemetery and watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground. The sky overhead was grey, and throwing around sleet that lodged itself in between their necks and the collars of their jackets.

After all was said and done and while the group was distracted while talking to the Father, Steve walked by his lonesome to the stone staircase that overlooked the Church’s estate and took a seat on the top step. The last time he was there was the day after his Ma was diagnosed. She loved coming to this spot because from there, you could see everything. From the sloping hills down to the creek, the point where the tree line grew thicker and grew into the woods, and far off in the distance the shadow of the city sky-line was visible, all of it could be seen from this one point.

They had been sitting on that top step together, when she told him that no matter what happened, she would be looking out for him. It was on this top step too, that she said she was going to fight it with everything she had.

Steve knew she fought for as long as she could. He was holding her hand at the end, and even then she had that spark in her eyes. It never faded, until her eyelids drifted shut for the last time.

He wanted to commit this place to memory: the way the stone of the stairs felt under his fingertips and the smell of the unadulterated outdoors. And for a moment, he could’ve sworn he heard his mother’s laugh drifting through the air.

Behind him, he heard the gentle footfalls of another. Steve turned and saw Bucky. He slid over from the middle of the step, making room for the brunet to sit.

“How are you doing?” He asks softly.

“I’m fine Buck, really. She was sick for a long time.”

Bucky rubbed up and down Steve’s back. They sat quietly for another moment before Bucky spoke again. “You never said you were Catholic.”

Steve pulled his lips into a small smile and took a deep breath. “It’s complicated. My Ma really believed and I’ve been around it my whole life. It’s always been there.” He paused. “Do you believe?”

“I don’t. Not really.” Bucky admits quietly, worried that someone else may overhear. “And I’m not even sure what I would believe if I did.”

“How so?”

“My mom’s Jewish, but my dad was Christian so we did that stuff instead. My mom lit the menorah in my bedroom window so he wouldn’t see.”

Steve’s lips parted slightly. “You never talk about them.”

“There’s not much to say, but I’m not completely against sharing. Not now, but maybe another time.”

They sat on that top step for a few more minutes until the Barton’s found them and said it was time to go.

_***_

The week of Thanksgiving was a busy series of days. That Friday, Saturday and Sunday, both Phil and Peter were out of the house. For the past two years on the twentieth of November — which fell on a Saturday this year — Phil drove to Boston to visit Melinda’s grave and leave fresh flowers for her and his children. The three of them were buried next to one another in a small cemetery, where an oak tree cast shade over their headstones. Phil would sit there for a long while, then reconnect with some colleagues he left behind, and would come home in plenty of time to celebrate Natasha’s birthday, which was on Tuesday.

Peter was spending the weekend with his aunt to celebrate an early Thanksgiving together. Their arrangement was odd, given that Peter was moved out of range of Queens, so Sharon and Hunter teamed up to give Peter and May as much time together as possible so long as May kept up her end of the deal.

This arrangement left Bucky, Nat, and Yelena home alone for the weekend, with either Mr. or Mrs. Barton popping over to check in with them from time to time. On Saturday, the three ate breakfast and lunch out, then tried to cook dinner for themselves using a recipe from one of Phil’s cookbooks. It became very apparent that all three lost any semblance of being able to cook without Phil being there, and their poor casserole sat burnt and smoking on the stovetop while they made a mad dash for the windows to air out the smoke that was still billowing out from the oven.

The Barton’s had them over for food the next day.

When Phil returned home on Sunday evening with Peter close behind, he had no idea about the _almost having a house fire_ incident, and Bucky, Nat, and Yelena sought to keep it that way. When Peter started to say, “Doesn’t it smell kinda smokey in—-,” He was met with an overabundance of covert hand signals, all of which roughly translating to _shhhh_ and _we’ll tell you later._

_***_

Bucky woke up before his alarm that Monday morning. There was only a half day of school today, then they had the rest of the week off given the perfect storm of a holiday break and parent teacher conferences.

There was something about the morning though that felt so, just, _right_. It was hard for Bucky to explain, or even rationalize, especially given the time of morning. Once he peeked out his window, he figured it out: It had snowed all night.

North Albany was blanketed in a half inch of fresh snow — the first snowfall of the year.

His alarm clock read 5:30, and even after rolling back into bead and trying to fall back asleep, he was wide awake. Coffee was calling his name — _when does it not?_ — so he bundled up in a hoodie and pulled his shoes on and trekked downstairs. He planned to sit out on the porch with a mug and watch the snow fall before he really had to get ready.

During the school day, Bucky had asked Steve to come with him to Skippy’s before his appointment. Something Darcy had wanted Bucky to work on was opening up to people, and bringing some of his walls down, so he mentioned to Steve that he was ready to talk about his life before he moved there.

He found himself sitting at their usual table nursing a cup of his go-to dark roast. Talking ended up proving easier in theory though. Bucky clammed up before a single word came out.

“You said that maybe you’d tell me a bit about your parents and growing up?” Steve asks softly, encouraging Bucky to share. He didn’t want to pressure him into talking if he didn’t want to.

Bucky swallowed hard. “Yeah, what do you want to know?”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Small town called Tully, maybe two and a half hours west of here.”

“How small?”

“I’m pretty sure our school has more students than there are people there,” he said.

“Damn,” Steve pondered. Bucky nodded. “Do your parents still live there?”

Bucky shook his head no. “Um, I don’t know where my mom is because she left just before I turned thirteen, and my dad’s in prison for the foreseeable future.”

Steve rested his hand on Bucky’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be. You didn’t do anything.”

“I know, but—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said more firmly. “I’m glad to be out of there. You could imagine the gossip in a town like that.”

Steve didn’t really know what to ask next. “Do you have any other family? Like, I know you don’t have any siblings, but like cousins or anything?”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve got an Uncle and a handful of cousins on my mom’s side in Romania. I’ve only met them once, when I was little, and I don’t really keep in touch. As far as my dad’s side goes, he was in the system since he was a toddler and he aged out, so he doesn’t really have family like that.”

“Age out? What does that mean?”

“Once you hit eighteen, if you’re not adopted, you kinda just get thrust into the world like you’re some sort of full-fledged adult. There are extensions now that kids can apply for until they’re twenty-one that are supposed to help with school and stuff, but after that you’re pretty much on your own.”

“Are you? I mean—”

“Am I going to age out?” Bucky finished for him. “I don’t know.” He looked down into his coffee and stirred it with a spoon absent-mindedly.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I over-stepped,” Steve said.

“No, you’re okay, I’m just not used to talking about this stuff.” He took a sip. “There’s something else I want to talk about, but I kinda want to not be sitting here when we do.”

“Okay, where do you want to go?”

“Maybe we could walk around outside?”

“It’s snowing,” Steve said, glancing out the window.

“I know.”

“Okay.”

They both finished up their drinks, then put on their jackets. Outside in the cool air, Bucky took a deep breath. “I love snow.”

Steve smiled at him, as he twirled around in the falling flakes. They set off across the sidewalk.

“You’ve never asked about what happened to my hand,” Bucky said, wrapping his right arm around Steve’s left, so that they were interlocked at the elbow. “Does it bother you?”

“Why would it bother me? It’s a part of who you are and I’d love you with or without it.”

Bucky rested his head on Steve’s shoulder. “But you never ask about it. I catch you sometimes, looking at it.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky stopped in his tracks, which then caused Steve to end his stride. “Stop apologizing Stevie, it’s okay. I appreciate you not wanting to force an answer out of me. Would you, want to know?”

“I mean, yeah if you’re okay with telling me, but I figured if you ever wanted to talk about it, you’d bring it up yourself. I didn’t want to ask, or be rude or anything.”

Bucky smiled, and they continued walking. “It’s still new, relatively speaking. Just about two and a half years old.”

“How did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking."

“I don’t remember all of the details exactly, but, uh, it’s the reason why my dad’s locked up.”

Steve turned and looked at Bucky. There were so many emotions he was feeling all at once — sadness for Bucky, anger towards the asshole who did it, guilt for even asking. They were all piling up.

Bucky continued. “I was in the hospital for eight weeks or so, after the surgery for occupational therapy. — which was pretty much trying to relearn how to do everything one-handed. They said they tried to save it in the surgery, but there was too much damage and I’d be in more pain with it than without. Which I think is bullshit because I bet those Doctor’s haven’t felt phantom limb pain, but whatever,” he almost chuckles. “And during that whole time, my dad had his trial, forfeited his parental rights, and was sentenced. I haven’t seen him since, and I honestly couldn’t care less.”

“Was it on purpose, what he did?”

“It was an accident.” Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never admitted that he thought that before, except to Darcy. “Well, he was definitely intending to come and beat my ass, but no, he didn’t intentionally hack it off or mean to cause that kind of damage, at least I think.”

They turned the corner past several retailers that were starting to put up Christmas lights, even though it wasn’t even past Thanksgiving yet.

“Why now?” Steve asked. “I’m grateful that you’re telling me, but why now?”

“Well, here’s another thing, I’m in therapy, or counseling, or whatever you want to call it, and it’s helping me to own my story and get in charge of my mind.”

Steve nods.

“You remember that night that I freaked out? And then I ditched school the next day?”

“I do.”

Bucky paused. These words weren’t coming out as easily. “It’s something that my doctor calls the running reflex _._ It’s common in people with anxiety, or post traumatic stress. And, uh, I have both.”

He exhaled and felt that weight come off his chest. Bucky unlinked his arm from Steve’s and leaned up against the brick of the side of the building. His hand flew up to his mouth and his next breath was shaky. “I can’t believe I said that.” He looked up at Steve, who was now standing in front of him. “I’ve never actually said that part out loud before. Ever.”

Steve stepped forward and wrapped Bucky into a hug, which was immediately reciprocated. The two stood there, wrapped up in each other.

“I’m so proud of you, Buck. I love you so much,” he whispered in Bucky’s ear.

“I love you too,” he murmured into Steve’s shoulder.

They walked arm and arm around another block.

“It’s so pretty out,” Bucky remarked. “I woke up early this morning and I just knew today was going to be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happier times are ahead (a.k.a. Christmas and Hanukkah in July? Maybe?)  
> I didn't intend to go down this route with this chapter, but it just kind of happened. (My fellow writers know what I'm talking about.)
> 
> And I've finally put an end chapter number in. Don't worry if it feels super sudden! I have a plan for two sequels, and a handful of one-shots (which are already in the works), so this is not the end of this universe. More on that later.
> 
> I’m also looking for a beta reader for a few new fics i’m working on. Let me know below if you’re interested and we can chat!
> 
> Also, even though I always say it, I love reading your comments! :)  
> I hope y'all are staying safe and healthy


	14. Around the Bend and on the Mend, Eventually

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did lightly edit this, but it's also past midnight here and I'm tired. Please forgive any errors you may stumble across :)

“So, plans for summer break? Do you have any?”

“Tony, dude,” Bucky shook his head as they left the robotics lab. “My brain is fried from that final, and you want me to think about something that’s six months away?”

“Technically it’s five months—”

“My point still stands.”

Tony huffed. “I’m just thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Sam caught up to them. “Man, that JROTC final was easy! A’s coming my way all day!”

“Don’t jinx it,” Bucky warned. “Are you done with finals for today too?”

Sam nodded. “Yep, and all I have for tomorrow is my physics final and I’m done for the semester. I took my gym final last week.”

Tony groaned to that. “Lucky. I have my English and Calc BC exam tomorrow. I’m not worried about the math, but English?” He shuddered.

“Yeah right Stark, it’ll be so disappointing to hear that you _only_ scored a 94% on that one. Woe is you, _Mr. Top of the junior class.”_ Sam chided.

“You’re being awfully quiet Parker,” Tony changed the subject, turning back to the youngest in the mix.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just waiting on important news today, that’s all.”

Bucky remembered Peter bringing up that his Aunt was waiting to get a court date to regain full custody of him once again. Peter was so excited, he couldn’t stop smiling — even when he was chewing.

“Well man, whatever it is, I hope it goes your way,” Sam reached out and nudged Peter’s shoulder. The group was good with accepting vague answers — they understood that _sharing_ wasn’t something that foster kids took lightly.

“Thanks,” he beamed back.

“So, Buck-o, summer plans?”

“Dude, I really don’t know.”

“Fine, then what about your plans for tonight?”

“Um, Phil’s taking me to the DMV to get my license,” he replied as they met up with the rest of their friends.

“Ooo good luck!” Sam added.

“Does that mean I get to sit in the front seat again?” Clint joined in. Steve had been giving Bucky and Peter a ride home on the days when Nat and Yelena had to be at the dance studio — and unceremoniously gave Clint the bump to the back seat.

“Probably, once Phil gets his other car ready,” Bucky conceded. “I’m also thinking about maybe getting a job too.”

“No way! Where?”

“You guys know that record store in downtown?”

Everyone gave a collective nod.

“Well, the owner Carol is always working. I think it’s just her honestly, so I want to see if maybe I could help out for a few hours each week.” Bucky said.

“That’s awesome man,” Sam clapped him on the back.

***

“Hey, can I talk to you for a moment?” Steve asked Bucky when they got out of the car. Clint was already almost inside and Peter had crossed over the yard, leaving Steve and Bucky by the car.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“So you know how the musical stuff got pushed back til after break because they’re looking for a new director since the choir teacher backed out?”

Bucky in fact had known about that debacle. He had been giving a lot of thought to what Ms. Carter said about getting involved, and he was ready to jump feet first into a project. He nods.

“Well I was thinking, maybe, instead of running track this spring, I would go out for the musical instead.”

“Really? That’s awesome!”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah! Funny story too, I was actually thinking about working in the crew.” Bucky admitted.

Steve laced their hands together, boxing Bucky in between him and the truck. “Look at us,” he said.

“What a pair we make.” Bucky finished.

Steve leaned forward and pressed their lips together, letting snowflakes fall all around them, until Bucky pulled away and looked Steve in the eye. “So, you’ve been holding out on me? You like to sing?”

***

December twenty-third fell on a Monday, and was also Bucky’s last appointment with Darcy until the New Year. The last week had been one of the most eventful he’d had in a very long time. He aced his final exams, and even got his driver’s license.

Peter even heard about the news he was waiting on, and it didn’t go the way he was expecting, but it was good news all the same. He would be moving back with his Aunt in Queens in May. The judge in the case ruled that Peter should finish the school year in Albany since it would be _in his best interest._ When Peter told Nat, Yelena, and Bucky that, they both groaned. That was a phrase thrown around all to often in the lives of foster kids.

Steve was going to drive him into downtown since Phil’s been putting in the extra hours to finish his Corvette, but he started having some flu-like symptoms that weekend and hasn’t left his downstairs quarantine except to pick up food from the kitchen. That left Bucky to borrow Nat’s car.

(She gave him a very firm _‘Not a scratch,_ that left Bucky’s heart pounding as he put the car in reverse and started down the street.)

He made it to his appointment with plenty of time to spare, and parked at the very end of the parking garage away from any other cars, just to be safe.

***

“You’ve made a lot of impressive strides over the past few months,” Darcy said, crossing her legs in her chair.

He nodded. “I feel really settled here.”

“Do you know why?” She tilted her head, curious to hear his answer.

As he thought about it, he bit the inside of his lip. “I don’t really know, it’s just a feeling.”

“That’s okay, just think about that from time to time. I might ask you about it again in a couple of weeks,” she winked.

“Okay.”

“How do you feel about scheduling appointments every other week?”

“Is that something I can do?”

“If you feel like you’re ready,” she followed up. “I know we have a good routine going, but I think, so long as you’re feeling okay, we can decrease the frequency of your visits.”

“Okay,” he hesitated.

“I am only a phone call away, if you need to talk anything through.”

They both stood up, knowing that there was only a few moments left before the end of his appointment.

“Have a happy Christmas and new year Bucky,” she said fondly. “We can work out a new schedule when I see you again in January.”

“Thanks Darcy. Have a nice holiday.”

He gave the lady at the front desk a small wave before turning out into the hall, down the stairs, and into the street.

The town ended up hanging wreaths and lights all around the streets of downtown. It all mad Bucky nostalgic for fond holiday memories he never really had. Hanukkah started the day before, but he didn’t have a Menorah to light — and even if he had one, he didn’t know if he would light it. He chalks the holiday season up to another situation in his life where he doesn’t neatly fall into one group or another.

Around the circular logo of his favorite vinyl shop, there was a wreath hanging as well. Instead of matching the green ones that lined the streets, it was bright red with a blue and yellow bow. He ducked inside ready to chill out in one of the cool lounge chairs for a bit and chat with Carol more about music and possibly getting a job.

The bell above the door rang when Bucky stepped inside. He swept the snow off the color of his jacket and scuffed the snow off his shoes and onto the front mat.

Something was off. Even though all the lights were on, and the open sign was lit in the window, the shop was eerily quiet, save for the skipping static of a record at the end of it’s track and a mysterious thudding noise coming from behind the counter.

“Hello?” He called out. There was no response. He ventured through the shop and towards the counter, but stopped short when he saw Carol lying on the ground unconscious.

_The medical bracelet_. He dropped his bag and reached for her wrist after recalling seeing her wear one every time he was in.

_Carol Danvers_

_TBI induced epilepsy_

_ICE: (678)136-7092_

_Do not call 911 unless unconscious for 3+ mins_

His eyes grew wide with the realization that she was having a seizure. He looked at the clock on his phone, but he couldn’t remember the exact time he walked in. She could’ve been like this for a lot longer than three minutes.

_Screw it,_ he thought. _Better be safe than sorry._

He dialed for emergency medical services.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Hi, uh, I’m pretty sure my friend is having a seizure. She’s unconscious.” _Wait, were they friends? Now’s not the time._ “She has a medical bracelet that says she has epilepsy.”

“Okay, where is the location of your emergency? I’ll send an ambulance.”

“Um, I don’t know the exact address, but I’m at The Groove, it’s a shop in downtown.” He stood up and glanced across the counter top. His eyes fell upon a business card. “Wait I found the address.” He read out the street name and suite number.

“Okay, an ambulance is on the way. What’s your name?”

He steeled his nerves and opted to forgo his nickname. “James Barnes.”

“Okay James, I have a few questions. Please stay on the line with me until the ambulance gets there. Is she convulsing, or is she laying still?”

“She’s mostly still, but every so often her leg twitches.”

“Okay. What’s your friend’s name?”

“Carol. Carol Danvers.”

“Do you know how old she is?”

“I don’t know, maybe in her twenties? She has a medical I.D. bracelet though.”

“Okay, can you tell me what is says?”

He recited the details to the dispatcher.

“Does the bracelet have a backside?”

Bucky flipped the bracelet over, turning the ergonomic metal around her wrist. “Um, her birthday is April 24, 1995. It also says she’s allergic to Triptans.”

“Okay, that’s some very useful information.”

The ambulance got there about ten minutes later. During that time, Carol remained unconscious but her leg stopped twitching. There was nothing more he could do except wait and make sure she stayed on her side.

Once the paramedics arrived, she was slowly starting to regain consciousness, but only enough to grab onto Bucky’s hoodie.

“Are you coming with kid?” The paramedic asked after having secured the gurney with Carol curled on top.

In that moment he remembered vividly, the cold interior of the ambulance that carted him to Syracuse Memorial Hospital and the feeling of emptiness that took residence in his heart after waking up alone in the hospital bed.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

***

Panic set in for Bucky five minutes into the ambulance ride. _What was he doing? How was he going to get home?_

“Hey kid, are you okay?” The paramedic asked, placing a gentle hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He said. “Just worried.”

“It’ll be okay. You made the right decision.”

Bucky pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and chose to bite the bullet and text Phil.

_Bucky: Hey Phil, so the craziest thing happened after my appointment today and I’m kinda on my way to the hospital in the city. I’m okay, don’t worry, but Natasha’s car is parked in the Main Street garage downtown, and I’m going to need a ride home. I can call you when we get to the hospital—_

He leans over to the paramedic. “How much longer til we’re there?”

The guy leans forward and peaks through the windshield. “About ten minutes.”

— _in about ten minutes. I can explain everything, please don’t be mad._

Bucky hit send and slid back in his seat. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_Phil: As long as you’re okay, it’s okay. I’m not mad, so don’t worry. Call me as soon as you can. I’m on my way there now._

As the ambulance pulled into the bay, the monitors connected to Carol started to beep again. The intake team swiftly pulled her gurney from the back of the vehicle and into a trauma room. A nurse shuffled Bucky towards the waiting room. He took a seat in a vinyl chair that smelled vaguely of antiseptic and sighed.

“I need a wheelchair, please!” A familiar voice called. Bucky turned to see Steve strewn over Mr. Barton’s shoulder, tear stains down his face and clutching his side.

Immediately Bucky was on his feet and at Steve’s other side, helping Mr. Barton ease him into a wheelchair that a nurse provided.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, looking to Clint’s father.

“Appendicitis, I think,” he said, following the nurse to the room they were taking Steve into. “He didn’t come up at all today, and when I went to check on him, he was curled up on his side in pain.”

Bucky stood up against the wall and out of the way as the nurses did their work by taking Steve’s vitals, administering an I.V., and taking blood. As the pain meds did their work, Steve eventually relaxed. He turned towards Bucky, “Are you really here, or am I having a fever dream?”

“No, no, I’m really here,” Bucky came up to his bedside and took his bare hand.

“How? Why?” Steve’s head rolled back onto his pillow.

“Long story.”

Bucky stayed by Steve’s side until the doctor came in. After a brief physical exam and consulting Steve’s labs, he gave a confirmed diagnosis of appendicitis. They only had a moment to say goodbye before he was carted into surgery.

Mr. Barton and Bucky walked back into the sterile smelling waiting room, where they ran into Phil who wrapped Bucky into a relief-filled hug. As Phil and Harold chatted about Steve, and then about their Christmas plans, Bucky zoned out. Or he did, until he heard Carol’s name. He turned towards the front desk where he saw the back of another woman.

He got up from his seat and headed for the front desk, then tapped the woman on the shoulder. She turned.

“Val?” Bucky was stunned to see his favorite barista, who was equally as surprised to see him.

“Bucky? What are you doing here?”

“I was the one who came in with Carol,” he said. “I found her at the record store, she was unconscious.”

Val shook her head. “I told her to just close up the shop today and take the day off. We could spend the day in bed and if anything happened because of her new meds, I’d be there with her. But she insisted on opening her place today for any last minute holiday shoppers.”

“Wait, you two are together?” He asked.

“Yeah, we have been almost three years now.”

“Ms. Thompson?” A nurse called. “Carol’s up on the sixth floor in the Neuro department. Room 614.”

“Thank you.” Val turned back to Bucky. “Well, I’m going to go up and see her. Thank you, for being there.”

“It’s really no problem, I’m just glad I got there when I did.” He was ready to turn and sit back down, but she called out to him again.

“Hey, I’d hate to ask, but I came straight here and I’m sure the store needs to be locked up.” She held out a keyring with three keys on it. “Would you mind going back and closing up the shop? You can leave the keys for me back at the coffee shop. I’d really appreciate it.”

“Of course! It’s the least I could do.” He took the keys, and turned them around in his hand. “Tell her I hope she feels better.”

“I will.” She smiled, then turned down the corridor and out of sight.

When Bucky returned to where Phil and Harold were seated, Phil was ready to go.

“What about Steve?” Bucky asked.

“He should be home tomorrow. It’s a minor surgery — the doctors caught it quick enough,” Mr. Barton said. “And I’ll let Phil know when he’s out of the operating room, so he can let you know.”

“Thank you,” Bucky sighed in relief.

***

In the car, Bucky shifted down in his seat. “I’m really sorry about this Phil. I just found her laying there and I didn’t want her to be alone when she woke up because I know what that’s like and—”

“Don’t be sorry Bucky, you made the right choice. I’m proud of you,” he looked him in the eye, before turning the key in the ignition. “Now what do you say we head home, and maybe pick up some dinner on the way.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I just need to stop by somewhere first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's definitely been a minute since I've updated -- sorry about that! I have several other WIPs going at the moment, so this got pushed to the back burner for longer than I would've liked. The next chapter will probably focus on the holidays, and will most likely make me nostalgic for winter in the process. 
> 
> In other news - I got my AP test scores back. I didn't do as well as I would've liked, but I did get a 5, 4, and 3 in human geo, psychology, and biology respectively. I also got my diploma. Woo hoo! 
> 
> This may sound weird, but I've missed posting, and I've missed hearing from all of you. Feel free to leave me a comment! :)
> 
> Find me on twitter or tumblr: @margots0dyssey


	15. Someday at Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas in September!  
> Chapter title is taken from my favorite Christmas song, Someday at Christmas by the Jackson 5

Steve arrived home from the hospital the next morning. The surgery was minor and the doctors caught his appendix before it ruptured. He was in and out of the operating room in under ninety minutes, and now, a day later, he was relaxing in his bed with his boyfriend at his side.

“I genuinely thought you were a fever dream yesterday,” Steve said, before pulling himself into a sitting position with a groan. He was still sore, and ever movement amplified the ache, sending the pain rippling across his abdomen.

“Here, stay here, what do you need?” Bucky tried to get him to remain in bed.

“I need to go to the bathroom Buck, but I appreciate you.” He reached out for Bucky’s jaw, which was scratchy with a few days worth of stubble. “Now kiss me so I don’t have to lean over too far and pop a stitch.”

“Yes sir,” Bucky closed the gap between them.

Steve pulled away first and gingerly lifted himself off of the top of his bed. “You know, I can’t say I recommend appendicitis. Would you mind going upstairs and getting me a pain pill and some water?”

“Yeah I can do that.”

“Thank you, I love you.”

Bucky came up by his side and pressed a gentle and chaste kiss to the side of Steve’s head, then watched him walk into the bathroom before turning upstairs. He knew where the pharmacy package was — he saw it on the counter when he first walked into the Barton’s house — and he vaguely remembered which cabinets they kept their drink-ware in, so he helped himself around their kitchen then turned back to the basement with the haul.

The blankets on Steve’s bed were bunched up at his feet, leaving plenty of room for the blond to comfortably rest. He was sitting on the edge and held his hand out when Bucky returned.

After throwing the pill back and chasing it back with a large gulp of water, Steve yawned. “This is probably going to knock me out for a few hours.”

“I can go — let you rest for a bit.”

“Okay, but wait,” Steve reached behind him for two wrapped parcels. “I kinda missed yesterday, so that’s there with today’s gift. I know you said you don’t really celebrate, but Happy Hanukkah Bucky.”

Bucky stood awe struck. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, just open them before I pass out,” Steve laughed softly.

He reached forward for the boxes. “In any particular order?”

“This one’s the one I was going to give you yesterday, but it doesn’t really matter what order you open them in.”

The _day one_ gift was wrapped in royal blue, and had a thin white ribbon tied around the center. As soon as Bucky took it in hand, he could tell that a metal tin was under the paper. He carefully slid the ribbon off, then pulled at the corners to reveal box of three archival ink pens — ones Bucky had been thinking about buying for himself after the new year.

“How did you know?”

“I have my connections,” Steve said. Bucky wasn’t satisfied with that answer based off the look on his face, so Steve continued. “Wanda’s twin brother is on the cross country team, so I set up a little grapevine operation to see if there was any specific art supplies you wanted or used a lot in class. I heard that you favor these kinds of pens, so it was a no brainer to get you a new set.”

“Oh wow—”

Steve’s smile was cut short by a yawn, so Bucky set the pens down and picked up the second gift. This one was smaller and cylindrical, and squished under the newspaper wrapping. Bucky ripped the edges to reveal a pair of Star Wars printed crew socks. Unlike his homecoming socks that had criss-crossed light sabers, these had mini R2D2’s all over.

“Can I hug you?” Bucky asked timidly.

“You don’t have to ask,” Steve said, arms open wide.

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me.”

***

Bucky walked across the lawn between their two houses a few minutes later with his gifts in hand. The wind was sending flurries of snow through the air, carrying the smell of winter through the air, and he enjoyed every second of it.

Once inside, he toed off his shoes and tried to make it upstairs without drawing attention to himself, but Natasha — ever the spy — heard the tell-tale creak of the stairs and called him into the living room.

“Where’d you get all that?” She asked.

“Oh, um, Steve gave them to me,” Bucky said. “For Hannukah.”

Phil, who was in the kitchen tidying up, turned to look at Bucky.

“It’s not a big deal,” he followed up, figuring out that he’d never disclosed that side of him to anyone but Steve.

“Bucky, I had no idea,” Phil said, drying his hands on a towel. “I didn’t even realize, and we don’t eat kosher—”

“I don’t eat kosher either,” Bucky laughed. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I don’t even think it’s in my file.”

“It’s not.” Phil confirmed.

“And it shouldn’t be. I haven’t celebrated in years, and I honestly didn’t realize it started yesterday.”

“Uh huh,” Nat hummed. “And how did Steve know then?”

Bucky shifted in place. “We talked about it at his mom’s service. Just about faith and stuff.”

“Is that something you want to celebrate?”

“No, I’m okay, that’s okay,” Bucky said. “I’m going to put this upstairs.” He started backing out of the room.

Upstairs, Bucky noticed the door to Peter’s room was ajar, opening to the darkened space. His bed was made and there were a few items of clothes neatly folded over the desk chair, but other than, the room was empty.

“Peter went back to Queens for Christmas and the New Year — left when you were over at Steve’s,” Yelena said from behind Bucky. He nearly startled, not having heard her coming up the stairs after him. “He’ll be back on the third I think.”

“Ah, okay.” He continued to his room. “Thanks.”

Bucky closed the door part way behind him, then sat at his desk. Time was ticking, and he needed to finish Steve’s gift, so he pulled out the carefully measured stock paper and one of his new pens and got to work.

An hour or so later, a knock came on Bucky’s door.

“Hey kiddo, I finished burning that CD you asked for,” Phil said, crossing over the threshold into Bucky’s room. “Whoa, is that the cover?”

His gaze had fallen to the two square papers on Bucky’s desk that were carefully drawn on.

“Yeah, I’m almost done,” Bucky said. He took the CD from Phil, careful to not let his fingertips leave a mark on the disk. “I just want to double check the order before I wrote the track list out.”

“Good idea.”

Bucky slid the CD into the slot in the side of his laptop and opened the file.

“Hey, I’m sorry if it seemed like I was interrogating you about the whole holiday thing earlier,” Phil said, wringing his hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky said, maintaining eye contact with his computer screen before looking up. “It’s more stuff I have to unpack. Maybe next year we can do something — I don’t know.”

They both smiled at the idea.

_Next year._

_A future._

_Family._

“You know, I think Steve’s really going to like it. It was a good idea.” Phil said, changing the subject.

Bucky ran his fingers over the dried ink _._ “Thanks. I hope he does.”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Phil said.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

As Phil closed the door, Bucky dug through his bag for his headphones then plugged them in. Hitting play, he closed his eyes and listened with a smile.

***

“What the hell?” Bucky groaned.

“Come on, it’s half past nine and I want to open presents and Phil says we can’t unless we’re all awake,” Nat said, continuing to nudge him in the shoulder. He rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head.

“’S too early.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” Yelena’s voice came from the hallway. “I started the coffee pot though.”

That got Bucky out of bed.

He ambled downstairs in his pajama pants and hoodie, only after pulling the hood over his head. His hair was getting long again, but he kind of felt like growing it out so he wasn’t averse to letting it go and grow for a while.

“Coffee?” He asked when he arrived in the kitchen.

“Good morning to you too,” Phil said, pouring a cup out for the tired teen. “And Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” 

Bucky took the coffee in hand and took a sip. It was still tongue-burning hot, but he took another sip anyway, too impatient to wait.

The four of them gathered in the living room around the tree. Bucky was proud of the gifts he had gotten for Phil, Nat, and Yelena. (A few weeks ago, Phil took him to the bank to set up an account. It turned out that Bucky had a modest savings account from when he was a kid, so Sharon was able to make the connection to get Bucky his money.) He felt good when the first things he bought were for them. 

The word family was dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

Phil distributed their gifts and for the first time in a few years, Bucky had a sizable pile to open. He started on the smaller parcels first. There were a few stocking stuffer items like chapstick and an iTunes gift card for his phone. However, when he reached for the second to last package, Phil waved his hand.

“That one last please,” he said.

Bucky shrugged it off and reached for the larger box. Underneath the wrapping paper was a Converse box, housing a pair of shoes in his size.

“They just came out a few weeks ago,” Phil commented. “I saw an ad for them up in the city when I was working up there last month. They just reminded me so much of you.”

Inside the box were a pair of black high tops with stripes of extra stitching, and the words _Create Change_ that wrapped around the sides in white writing.

“I know they aren’t your usual style, but—”

“No! They’re perfect, thank you.” Bucky marveled at them. There was a part of him that wanted to keep them in the box, perfect and uncreased, but he knew that he was meant to wear them. It seemed like they _were_ made for him.

“Go ahead and open the other one,” Phil suggested. The three of them watched as Bucky reached for the package he cast away moments ago.

The box was small, no bigger than a dollar bill laid flat, and something inside rattled when he shook it. Bucky didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely was not a set of car keys.They were ones he recognized — the ones to Phil’s silver sedan. On they key ring too, was a house key and a Star Wars key chain.

“You finished Lola?” He asked, bewildered by the weight of the keys in his hand.

“She’s been done since the end of November,” Phil said. “I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

“That’s incredible!”

“Yeah, if only I could’ve made her fly.”

“Maybe one day,” Nat jabbed.

The four settled on the couch for the rest of the morning and left Peter’s presents stacked under the tree for when he returned. Phi made pancakes and eggs, and they ate while watching _A Charlie Brown Christmas._

Bucky was itching to go over to Steve’s. He and Nat planned to head next door around two, so they wouldn’t intrude on the Barton Family Christmas Lunch or miss Phil’s dinner, but it seemed like time was passing at a snail’s pace.

**B: do you need anything?**

**S: like what?**

**B: maybe from the store?**

**S: nothing comes to mind**

**S: plus it’s Christmas so I think everywhere is closed**

**B: darn I really wanted to drive**

**B: Phil gave me the keys to his car, like for real**

**S: oh in that case I’ll take a million dollars and a cappuccino**

**B: idk ab the million, but I can definitely swing by a Starbucks for you since Skippy’s is closed today**

**S: you’re a life saver**

**S: I’ve been coffee-less since before the whole appendix thing**

**B: wait, can you even drink coffee right now?**

**S: yeah??**

**B: the caffeine won’t mess you up?**

**S: no, I’ll be fine lol**

**B: okay**

**S: I love you**

**B: Love you too**

**B: See you soon**

Bucky drummed the back of his phone case absentmindedly. He still had a little over an hour to wait, but he was ready to go _now_. Well, mentally ready to go — he still needed to change and fix up his hair. He got up from the couch where Nat and Yelena ended up napping, their gifts spread out around the floor.

Even though he knew Peter was gone for the week, he still paused in front of his door. They had a lot in common, and Bucky really missed him — even if it had only been a day since he left. He took his time getting ready, then half past one he took the house’s order and left.

***

It’s not like Bucky hasn’t driven on his own before — he could count the number of times he had on his one hand — but sitting behind the seat of _his_ car felt so entirely freeing. Granted, he knew it wasn’t _his_ car since Phil’s name was on the lease, but it was the thought that counted. He savored every second, from adjusting the seat, to plugging his phone into the aux.

Pulling into a drive thru was an interesting and mildly stressful experience. If he was thinking, he would’ve parked and gone inside instead, but his favorite song was playing and before he could change his mind he was boxed into the lane. His new Converse clad foot hovered over the brake pedal continuously, nervously inching up until he placed his order and arrived at the window. He was extraordinarily careful driving home with a full drink carrier in the passenger seat, two more drinks in the cup holder, and his own dark roast snuggled between his thighs. By time he pulled into the driveway, Bucky came to fully appreciate the power of the thin, green drink stoppers.

Natasha met him outside to help him carry in all of the drinks, and then they crossed the snow laden lawn to visit their significant others.

“Happy Christmas,” Bucky said, wrapping Steve in a hug after setting down the coffee cups he had pinned between his arm and chest.

“Happy third day of Hanukkah,” Steve said in return. “Let’s go sit over here.”

Steve guided Bucky over to the settee that was situated by the window which looked out to the front of the house. It was close quarters, to the extent that sitting on opposite ends of the sofa left their knees touching. They wouldn’t have it any other way though.

“Okay, you first.” Steve held out a small white box.

Inside was a Claddagh ring, simple and silver, and Bucky was speechless.

“I hope you don’t think it’s too much, but it’s supposed to stand for friendship, loyalty, and—”

“Love,” Bucky finished.

“It should be your size, but if you’re not a ring person that’s okay, there’s a chain in the bottom of the box if you wanted to wear it as a necklace. Or if it’s too much…”

“It’s perfect.” He leaned over the rested his head in the crook of Steve’s neck, trying to blink away the tears that started to gather in the corners of his eyes. After a few seconds of breathing and Steve rubbing small circles into his back, Bucky leaned back and handed his package over.

Once Steve was through the wrapping paper, he sat very still with the CD case in hand. The front was a sketch of them based off one of the many photos they took at homecoming in blue ink, and had _Stevie’s Mix_ written across the top in Bucky’s handwriting. The backside had two cups of coffee with elaborate lines spouting out the top where steam would be — and it framed the track list of the CD inside.

_1\. Supercut, Lorde_

_2\. Inside Out, Spoon_

_3\. Loving is Easy, Rex Orange County_

_4\. So Alive, Love and Rockets_

_5\. Tongue Tied, Grouplove_

_6\. Rollercoaster, Bleachers_

_7\. Like Real People Do, Hozier_

_8\. Under Pressure, Queen_

_9\. I Love You, The Bees_

Inside the case was another surprise — a collage of several notes they passed during English was behind the other side of the plastic.

“It’s for your truck, incase your phone dies or something and you’re stuck with whatever’s on the radio. I also made a Spotify playlist of it as well, so you have it anywhere.”

“Can we go listen?” Steve asks softly.

“Well, it is _music_ , so I suppose.”

“Okay smart ass. Yeah, let’s go listen.” Steve got up, only wincing slightly at the change in position and went to grab his coat.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Well, I want to listen to the actual CD, and since stepping up into my truck is probably going to hurt, we have to go sit in your car.”

Bucky shrugged and smiled. “Okay then. But only after you help me get the chain on.” He held up the silver loop from which the ring hung. After Steve took it in hand, Bucky turned so that he could clasp it around Bucky’s neck. Once it was fastened, Steve pressed a kiss to the back of Bucky’s neck, which made the color in his cheeks rise.

They looped their arms together, then stepped outside.

***

Steve and Bucky ended up sitting in the front seat of Bucky’s car with the seats reclined as far back as they would go. It took a grand total of thirty-five minutes to go through the entire disk, and their hands were interlaced the entire time, resting over the center console.

“Again?” Steve asked when it ended.

“Again.” Bucky smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! It's been forever since the last update, so I'm sorry about that -- I started college and it's insane. I have a few in person classes and I'm living on campus so it's been a crazy experience. I'm having a great time though. 
> 
> Here are the shoes that Bucky got: https://www.converse.com/shop/p/create-future-chuck-70-unisex-high-top-shoe/169765C.html?dwvar_169765C_color=black%2Fparchment%2Fblack&styleNo=169765C&cgid=create-future-collection
> 
> And here is the link for Stevie's Mix on Spotify (the line about there being a Spotify playlist was totally meta): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0WSSlOWemrCWc8QEjvLGwf?si=vJmD9i6MTLqDjsNWvferug
> 
> The link is also posted on my Tumblr and Twitter (@margots0dyssey for both) since I can never figure out how to make links work in these notes.
> 
> There are a few things I want to address from this chapter --  
> Firstly, I am not Jewish, so I apologize if any references to Hanukkah come off as tone deaf. I do understand that it's an important cultural and religious holiday, but there is a bit of a disconnect between it and Bucky because of his past. Steve does finish out the final five days with more gifts, so if y'all want to know what they are, let me know. For the sake of keeping this a/n as short as possible, I'll probably post the list on twitter/Tumblr, or in the comment section.  
> Secondly, I know Peter hasn't had a big role in this story, but don't worry. I have a plan for him.  
> A third, and more minor thing, I also wear a claddagh ring! It's my understanding that it's significant in Irish culture, but has widespread meaning. 
> 
> I've missed you all, and I hope you all are doing well and staying safe and healthy.  
> \-- Mars :)


	16. The One Where Bucky Discovers Social Media and The Big Apple

If Bucky was a character in the Addams family, he’d probably be Lurch, not only because he’s tall and lanky, but because he has been stuck in a continuous state of exhaustion that left him feeling like death. In other words — second semester was kicking his butt. On top of his classes, the spring musical started up, keeping Bucky occupied for two hours everyday after school. He’d go straight from the crew meetings to The Groove for work.(It turned out that being there for your future boss during a medical emergency was one way to get a job, without even having to fill out an application. )

He even dropped Robotics Lab and got in as a library aide. It was a relief for him to not have additional homework, and he even found himself having extra time to sit and read after shelving his rack of books. His other teachers still decided to pack on a ton of assignments to get the semester rolling.

Bucky was taking the new year in stride, and even though he’s busier that he’s ever been in his entire life, he feels balanced.

“Barnes, heads up!”

He turned in time to catch a paint brush that was being hurtled through the air from one Wanda Maximoff.

“Jesus!”

“Not my messiah!” She called over her shoulder, turning back to paint her part of the set.

“Thanks,” he called back, waving it in the air. He was currently applying streaks of black paint to the purple background and was in need of a finer brush. Though it was kind of a menial job in the grand scheme of set building, Bucky was enjoying his spot. If he strained his ears enough, he could hear the vocal rehearsals from the next room over.

Bucky came to learn that Steve’s voice sounded like warm honey when he sang. Whenever the cast came to run scenes on the stage and crew was tucked away behind the curtain to keep working, Bucky listened for all of Steve’s lines — and for his first ever musical, he had quite a few.

Steve was cast as Lucas Beineke — one of the male leads, and Wednesday Addams’s love interest. Wednesday was being played by a freshman (to the dismay of many upperclassmen thespians) named Daisy Johnson. She had the _Wednesday look_ about her, and her vocal ability made her the clear choice.

“Alright crew, let’s bring it in!” Ms. Beachler called from the front of the stage. Bucky and the rest of the painters dumped their brushes into the ‘dirty’ cup and sat at the edge of the stage.

“You all have done great work this past week,” she continued as everyone took a seat. “We are ahead of schedule by a few days, So I’m giving you all until Monday off.”

That ignited a series of whoops and hollers from the crew. It was Tuesday, and having three consecutive days off was an opportunity they’d be pressed to find the more time progressed.

After they circled up and said goodbye for the night, Bucky and Wanda picked up the bin of dirty brushes and headed towards the art room to rinse them and lay them out to dry.

“So what are you going to do with your free days?” Bucky asked, blotting some of the larger brushes into a wad of paper towels.

“I’ll probably still be here late. Pietro has pre-season work outs for track after school and my mom doesn’t want to drive here and back twice in a day.”

“I could give you a ride home if you didn’t want to stay late,” Bucky offered. “I don’t have work until 5:30 on most nights anyway.”

“If it’s not any trouble, I’d really appreciate it!” Wanda said.

“Yeah it’s no problem. Want to meet me in the front foyer after school tomorrow?”

“Yes, thank you!”

Between both of the sinks running water, neither Bucky or Wanda heard the door open and close behind them.

“Guess who,” Steve said, covering Bucky’s eyes with his hands. The unexpected eclipse of his vision startled Bucky, causing him to jerk and splash water down his front.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” Steve tried to suppress his chuckle.

“You’re lucky this isn’t paint water ,” Bucky said, twisting the knob to the sink off and wiping his shirt off with his hand.

“So guess who has Saturday off?” Steve rocked forward in his stance.

“You?” Bucky got very excited. Steve hasn’t had a Saturday off since school started on account of the six-day a week rehearsals for the musical

“Yeah, Ms. Beachler said we’re ahead of plan, so we’ve got the rest of the week.”

“Sweet!” Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky’s neck. “We should do something fun this weekend.”

***

“Okay, Bucky, you need to make an Instagram.” Natasha groaned. “I keep posting all these pictures of our group but I can never tag you.”

“Plus colleges and jobs look for that,” Yelena added.

“Isn’t that a reason not to get it?” Bucky asked.

“Come on, you’re missing the point.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve never been in a place long enough to social network.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“But I guess I could set up a few accounts.”

“Yes!”

Bucky scrolled through the app store on his phone until he happened across the staples of social media: Instagram and Snapchat. Under Natasha’s watchful eye, he downloaded the two apps and started setting them up.

“Nat, what’s your username?”

“It’s just natromanoff.”

“And mine’s yelenabel,” Yelena adds from the other room.

Bucky pondered what his was going to be. He didn’t want it to be something that someone could look up too easily, but the only person he’d really be hiding from is his father, and as far as he knew, he didn’t have access to a smart phone behind bars.

Almost as if she could read his mind, Nat said, “You can make your account private too, so only people you know can follow you.”

He nodded, and thought for another moment before settling on _jbbarnes._ He smiled when the page gave him the green check, letting him know that the user name wasn’t taken.

Bucky didn’t realize how many pictures he had saved onto his phone until he had to scroll through them all to look for a profile picture. He was sitting on a gold mine of memories that he was really proud of, and that he could finally share. For his profile picture, he settled on a candid of him laughing from homecoming.

“What should I put in my bio?”

“I put school stuff, and dance, and also the date Clint and I started dating.”

Bucky ended up typing out a few succinct lines:

_North Pointe High ’19_

_S.G.R. 10.02.18._

After he pressed save on his profile, he noticed that there were already multiple friend requests waiting in a queue:

@natromaonoff

@yelenabel

@clint_barton

@stevegrogers

@wilsonsam

@mnhill

@peterparker04

“I may have sent your username in the group chat,” Natasha said unapologetically.

“So I really was the only one without an account, huh.”

“Yep.”

***

Each of Bucky’s days off from crew flew by, and it was Friday night before he knew it. He and Steve’s _big plans_ hadn’t moved past the idea phase. It wasn’t until he saw Peter packing his bag for a weekend trip to Queens that Bucky had his lightbulb moment.

“Hey Phil?” Bucky asked.

“What’s up kiddo?”

“You’re driving Peter to Queens tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan,” Phil dried his hands on a dish towel.

“Do you think I could? Steve and I were thinking about stuff we could do this weekend and I was thinking maybe we’d spend the day there.”

Phil thought about it, but hesitated. “I don’t know how I feel about you driving on the interstate, especially because it’s supposed to snow later tonight.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Bucky tried to mask his growing disappointment.

“Sorry Buck, maybe if it was spring and it wasn’t icy outside.”

“It’s okay.”

Bucky turned back upstairs and into his room, resigned to another weekend at home with his favorite guy. Granted, spending time with Steve was no hardship, but North Albany was getting boring. He was prepared to launch himself face first into bed, but it was already occupied. Peter was slouched at the foot of the bed, resting his head in his hands on the bed post.

“Robotics isn’t the same without you,” Peter sighed.

“I thought you and Tony were best friends.” Bucky leaned into his open doorway.

“I mean, yeah, but I don’t know. I just feel like we barely see each other now that the semester started.”

That took Bucky by surprise. Peter was usually aloof and Bucky understood why. A deep mistrust of people paired with a definite moving date — Bucky expected Peter to not get attached. He would’ve done the same thing.

“I don’t really have a lot of friends back in Queens. Just two, Ned and M.J., and like, I want togo back home and be back on my decathalon team and everything and I miss Aunt May, but I feel like I actually have friends here.”

“I’m sure after you move back in with your aunt, that you can come back and visit anytime. I know Phil would love to have you around, even if you’re not living here any more.”

Peter nodded. Bucky moved into the room and closed the door behind him.

“I know it’s a while off, but I’ve been looking at some colleges in the city. Like Manhattan and Brooklyn and stuff, so I’ll be around.”

“Really?” Peter’s face lit up.

“Yeah, but I don’t really know about the money stuff, or how my transcript is going to look since I was bounced around schools for a bit, so keep it between us, please?”

“Of course! What schools are you looking at?”

Bucky rummaged through his top drawer and pulled out the pamphlets Peggy gave him a few months ago.

“Colombia is at the top of my list so far, but I’ve only just started looking.” Bucky said as he handed over the papers.

“I’ve always wanted to go to M.I.T.” Peter said. “There’s other schools that I’ve been seeing stuff about, like Purdue or Texas A&M, but I don’t think I could go that far from home, you know?”

Bucky nodded. “I’ve never thought about leaving New York. In some twisted way, it’s always been home.”

***

As Bucky winded down for the night and finished his weekend homework, Phil knocked on his door.

“Come in,” Bucky said, clearing off his desk.

“So I was thinking, if you and Steve wanted to go to the city, I could drive you both out there with Peter, and you could take the train back. I’d pick you up at the train station too, if you wanted. I don’t have a problem with you guys being in the city, it’s just the driving that worries me.”

“Of course, that would be great!”

“Fair warning, it’s a four hour train ride back.” Phil added.

Bucky shrugged. “I’ll see if Steve’s okay with it. What time would we leave in the morning?”

“I was thinking seven-thirty. I wanted to drop Peter off around ten, so that leaves us with plenty of time to get coffee at Skippy’s and to drop you and Steve off in Manhattan beforehand.”

He smiled at the promise of caffeine.

After Phil closed the door behind him, leaving Bucky by himself to text Steve.

**B: You, me, and NYC tomorrow?**

*******

Seven thirty the following morning, Phil and the three teens packed into the sedan (which Bucky still couldn’t believe was his to drive) in varying states of awake-ness. Phil, the early bird of the group, was alert and ready for the two hour drive south. Peter shuffled into the passenger seat still clad in the flannel pajama pants and hoodie he slept in with a coat over top. He curled up as best he could and tried his best to fall back asleep after throwing his duffel and backpack in the trunk. Steve crossed over the snow dusted lawns and ducked into the backseat next to Bucky. They were both tired — Bucky mostly from being so excited the night before that he couldn’t sleep — but their exhaustion quickly evaporated as soon as they hit the road en route to coffee.

“Would you guys mind running in? I’ll keep the car running,” Phil turned to the back seat while gesturing to Peter, who was sawing logs.

Bucky and Steve nodded and got out of the car, shutting their doors softly.

A few minutes later, they emerged from the coffee shop with their three collective hands full of the usual suspects: A batch brew for Phil, a dark roast cup for Bucky, a cappuccino for Steve, and some Frappuccino-adjacent caramel drink that had way more sugar than actual coffee for Peter. Bucky couldn’t understand how anyone would want to drink iced coffee at this time of year, but to each their own, he supposed.

The two hour ride went by quickly — probably because both Steve and Bucky drifted between a sleep-like limbo the entire time, resting their heads on each other’s shoulders.

Phil dropped them off right in Times Square. “If you need anything, call.”

“Okay, okay,” Bucky said.

“And don’t forget, the train boards at 7:40—”

“So get there at least twenty minutes early, and text you when we’re on the train,” Steve finished.

“You got it. Be safe.”

“We will,” Bucky smiled, looking from Steve, back to Phil.

Once they waved goodbye to Peter and Phil, the silver car slipped out of sight and into traffic.

“This is incredible,” Bucky said.

The weather was perfect — crisp, yet sunny. The wind that blew between the skyscrapers was breathtakingly cold and carried the occasional rogue snowflake, but Bucky wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Oh whoa,” he said after his eyes made contact with a giant billboard advertisement for Star Wars: The Last Jedi.

“Come on _young Skywalker_ , let’s walk around,” Steve chuckled.

They walked down the avenue hand in hand, shifting between resting in Steve and Bucky’s jacket pocket since abrasive January air turned their knuckles pink. After a few blocks of wandering, they happened in front of Rockefeller Center.

“We should go ice skating!” Steve said, turning excited.

“Okay _Mr. Athlete_ , I’ll have fun watching.”

“You won’t skate?”

Bucky looked torn. The proposition was enticing, but he didn’t have much of an athletic bone in his body — he’d always been a bit tall and gawky — but the look on Steve’s face made him feel as though he could do anything.

“You know what, maybe I will.”

“Yes!” Steve exclaimed. “Come on, let’s go get some skates.”

Maybe it was because it was still early in the afternoon, but for whatever reason, the ice rink was not as crowded as Bucky expected. He was grateful though — the less people who saw him stumble around on butter knives, the better.

“Something tells me you’ve done this before,” Bucky said, gripping tightly onto Steve’s arm. They hadn’t even stepped foot on the ice yet, and he was struggling. Hockey skates were an adversary in his book.

Steve shrugged. “I used to play in a hockey league when I was younger. Hung it up for running though in middle school.”

He stepped up onto the ice and turned backwards, holding his hands out for Bucky to join him.

“That’s not fair,” Bucky groaned, both stalling and hesitating. He took a deep breath, then reached out for Steve’s hands as he slid (not very gracefully) onto the ice. “If I fall on my ass, don’t make fun of me.”

“You’re not going to fall.” Steve reassured him.

“How do you know?”

“I won’t let you.”

***

“Oh my god, I don’t think my feet even exist anymore,” Bucky groaned, leaning back on the wooden bench. He’d put his converse back on but hadn’t laced them up yet. “I hurt.”

He rolled his head over to the side and attempted to glower at Steve in mock protest for convincing him to ice skate, but his look softened at the sight of Steve. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink from both laughter and the cold, and little wisps of blonde hair were sticking out from his beanie. Somehow, that made it all worth it.

“Where should we go next?”

Steve checked his watch. “We still have plenty of time, it’s only half past noon.”

Just then, both of their stomachs rumbled.

“Lunch?” Bucky suggested.

***

The two decided to head back to the train station early, and managed to get on a track back to Albany an hour ahead of plan. They’d meandered out towards the East River, but once they were hit with the lake-turn-river effect wind, they promptly turned back towards the middle of Manhattan.

After grabbing lunch at a small cafe, they decided to head towards the Museum of Modern Art. (Bucky had heard Peter talk about how he went on a field trip there last year, and his friend MJ, who Bucky suspected was also Peter’s crush, loved every second of it.) Neither of them had actually been there before, so they weren’t quite sure what to expect, but Bucky didn’t think he’d ever seen Steve’s face filled with pure wonder before.

“I can’t wait to come here when we’re older and to see your work hanging up here,” Bucky said, thumbing through the pamphlets they picked up at MoMA as the city whizzed past through the narrow windows of the Amtrak.

“I don’t know Buck,” Steve said humbly.

“I’m serious. You’re going to have your pick of schools. Once they get ahold of your portfolio, they’re going to fight over you.”

He chuckled. “I’ve been getting so much college mail, it’s not even funny. I think even more than Clint.”

“But he already knows where he’s going,” Bucky reasoned. (After going down to D.C. to pick Barney up from Galludet, and take a tour of campus, Clint came back upstate with countless hoodies and shirts that had the Galludet bison across his chest.)

“Fair enough. I have no idea about where I want to go, and Miss Carter’s been breathing down my neck to start accumulating letters of recommendation and to fill out my college charts,” Steve sighed.

“We still have a lot of time though.”

“About a year.”

“Yeah, that’s plenty of time,”Bucky said.

They settled next to each other, and watched the last of the skyline before it was lost from view. “You’d think living as close as we do to Albany, that we’d be used to seeing a big city,” Bucky said.

“Albany is nothing like Manhattan.”

“Could you imagine living there? In the Big Apple?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. “Place doesn’t really matter to me, not as much as the people I’d be living with.”

Bucky didn’t say anything to that, but instead gave Steve’s hand a steady squeeze. He knew, probably better than most, that home comes down to family over location. He could live anywhere in the world, and know for certain that his home lies with Phil, Nat, Yelena, Peter, Steve, and the rest of their goofy group, no matter how far away they might be. For now, at least.

_But who am I kidding?_ Bucky thought as he selected a photo of him and Steve in Time Square to post on his Instagram. _I’ve got plenty of time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're down to the final chapters! Chapter 17 is the final chapter, and 18 will be the epilogue. I can't believe it's almost over. 
> 
> The Addam's Family was the musical I was in my junior year. I played guitar in the pit orchestra, and I had to be careful not to laugh since I was mic'ed up for my acoustic. It was a really good time.
> 
> Another little Easter egg I included is a reference to Hannah Beachler. I've written her as the crew director here. She was actually the set/ production designer and Oscar winner for Black Panther. Also, I threw in a colloquial term "sawing logs." It's another word for sleeping where I'm from, and I'm not sure how common it actually is.
> 
> I hope you all are doing well! I just finished midterms for school, and I'm cruising til the end of the semester. 
> 
> I love hearing from you all, so feel free to leave a comment :)


	17. These Ties That Bind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry I went on a brief unannounced hiatus, but I'm back! More in the end notes :)

January flurried into February, which thawed into March before Bucky’s eyes. His birthday was approaching quickly, and in less than ten days, he’d be seventeen.

“Remember when you first starting coming here, when I asked you what made this place different for you?” Darcy revived the question from one of their first sessions after their conversation seemed to stall.

Bucky nodded, surprised that she remembered that. “I have thought about it, but it’s not a super easy answer.”

“What do you mean by that?” She clasped her hands in her lap, eager to hear his answer.

“I can’t just point to one thing, really,” he said, glancing out the window. A few cars were passing below on the street, picking up and throwing clumps of nearly melted muddy sludge. “It’s a lot of little things.”

“We have a lot of time to unpack them,” Darcy encouraged. They did. The session wasn’t even half way finished.

“Well,” he took a breath. “I feel connected, and supported by people, and I don’t really remember feeling like that before. I was always looking over my shoulder, and always ready to jump ship before even giving anywhere a chance.”

“But you gave Phil a chance.”

Bucky chuckled. “I almost didn’t. I wasn’t even there three hours before I chickened out, and I packed my backpack, slipped out my window, and wasn’t going to turn back. I made it half way across the lawn before Clint saw me and invited me over.”

“And that’s when you met a lot of your friends?”

He nodded. “They included me right away, and didn’t ask questions. I wasn’t scared.”

“What did you have to be afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky chuckled. “Rejection maybe? Or maybe just letting people in.”

“That’s a very big thing to admit.”

He shrugged. “This place — living with Phil — it was all very different than before.”

“How so?”

“My privacy was respected, and I felt respected. I actually have friends here. Which let me tell you, in my experience, having a resting mad face and one hand, friends aren’t easy to come by. School isn’t so bad either, for once”

“So that made it harder to leave?” Darcy asked.

“No, it made it easier to stay.” He said. “There are all these ties that bind. It’s like my life got really complicated, really quickly, but in a good way.”

“What happens next?”

Bucky sat back in the chair. “I don’t know.”

“Do you know anything more on the college front?”

He shrugged. “I’m still doing my research.”

“Still on the law track?”

“I think so. It just makes sense for me. I think I’ll probably go into political science or something before law school, if it all pans out.”

“You know, I was a poli-sci major going into college.”

“What made you change?” Bucky asked.

“I got an internship my sophomore year with two astrophysicists,” Darcy replied, as though that answered the question adequately.

“And how..?”

“Well the internship made me realize a few things — I’m pretty good at talking to people, and I have a knack for problem solving. I love her, but my best friend Jane has a knack for getting into problems.

“Astrophysicists aren’t the greatest at self-care. It’s all _science this!_ and _science that!_ and _I don’t need eight hours of sleep Darcy, I’ve got coffee and red bull._ So honestly, it’s good to plan stuff out, but sometimes you just have to roll with it, and you’ll really find out what you want to do. Hell, Jane did five years of intense field research then decided to get her teaching license.”

Bucky chuckles at the exasperated tone Darcy’s voice took on when regarding her friend, and his mind drifts back to his physics class the day before when he watched Dr. Foster drink a large iced coffee in class, then after she had finished it, pulled another small coffee from the mini fridge under her desk. “Wait, your friend’s last name wouldn’t happen to be Foster, would it?”

“How’d you know?”

“She’s my —”

“She’s your teacher! I can’t believe I didn’t make that connection,” Darcy face palmed.

“Small world,” Bucky said.

“That it is.”

***

March 10th fell on a bleak looking Friday. There were patches of dirty snow piled up in the street gutters and a melting frost over the front lawn. Bucky, who had been resigned to spending each of his birthday’s in a style not too dissimilar from how Harry Potter spent his — quietly, unnoticed, and alone — was not expecting much of anything to come from this day other then the passage of time and coming of a new age: seventeen.

He woke up with his alarm clock, and upon feeling a light weight on his chest, scooped Alpine from off of him and silenced his phone.

Seventeen didn’t feel any different than sixteen had, at least so far. He stretched his arms up and out, feeling the vertebrae and his shoulder blades shift and settle with a satisfying pop. Sitting in the early morning darkness, he chuckled softly and pet Alpine between the ears. “Maybe I am getting older.”

Alpine meowed in response as Bucky turned into the bathroom to get ready before Peter needed to use the space.

Half way through brushing his teeth, he paused in front of the mirror. He’d changed a lot in the last six months. His cheeks were less gaunt, and his blue eyes seemed brighter. His hair, on the other hand, was still and the edge of being _too long,_ but it was okay. Manageable.

He pulled his favorite Star Wars t-shirt and flannel from out of his closet and a pair of loose ripped blue jeans from his drawer and got dressed.

“‘Morning,” he said to Phil when he came downstairs for his daily cup of coffee.

“Happy Birthday!” Phil turned away from the coffee machine after hitting the green start button. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to have Steve over for dinner tonight to celebrate? I’ll cook your favorite.”

“Pizza?”

“I thought Tandoori chicken was your favorite, birthday boy,” Natasha interrupted as she entered the kitchen.

“I mean, yeah it still is, but pizza is easy. Also we had Tandoori for dinner two nights ago.”

“I didn’t know you could get sick of chicken, Bucky,” Yelena added. “

“Someone said chicken?” Peter asked, finally stumbling into the kitchen and pushing his curly hair off of his forehead.

“Just trying to figure out dinner,” Bucky said. “Wait.” He checked the clock on his phone, and it was far too early for everyone to be downstairs and ready to go. “Why are you all down here? Now?”

“What, do you lay claim on the kitchen before—” Nat checked the time, “7:12 in the morning?”

“No, but you guys aren’t usually up and ready to go this early.”

“Well I thought maybe you’d want to get something from Skippy’s on our way to school,” she shrugged. “But if you want to be snarky we can all go back to bed for ten minutes.”

“You wouldn’t,” he deadpanned.

“Would,” she countered, raising an eyebrow.

Luckily, Natasha stood down and drove them all for coffee. Once the four packed into her car — an occurrence that happened rarely now that Bucky was driving himself — Nat twirled the aux cord in her hand.

“Birthday boy, would you like the honors?”

“To spare us from the same for Hozier songs you play every morning? Hell yeah.”

“What’s that about my favorite Irish man?” She turned.

“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” he recovered, taking the cord. His playlist of usual suspects — Gorillaz, Green Day, and Queen — filtered through the speakers, and despite knowing each song inside and out, his foot was bouncing to a different tune.

***

The school day passed as usual, but with a cheesy Doctor Who joke at lunch and a few passing _Happy Birthday_ s.

(“Hey Clint?” Bucky waved across the lunch table, the joke having popped in his head immediately after Clint said he started the series.

“Hmm?” Was the elegant response he received from Clint’s sandwich filled mouth.

“Knock knock.”

The blonde signed _Who’s there?_ as he continued to chew.

“Doctor.”

“Doctor — Ohhhhh I see what you did there!” He laughed.)

At the end of the day, Steve came up to Bucky’s locker.

“Hey.”

“Will you come over for dinner tonight?” Bucky asked, closing the slim metal door.

“Do you even have to ask?” Steve said, throwing his arm around Bucky’s shoulders.

“I figured I would, didn’t want to assume.”

“What time?” Steve asked.

“Maybe around five? I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good.”

They steered their way through the crowded hallway and outside.

***

Bucky was nearly right in his five o’clock estimate. Steve showed up around a quarter til to hang out upstairs — a diversion of Phil’s own design to distract Bucky from the sheer amount of food he was arranging, all while Nat and Yelena worked to put the extra leaf in the table and Peter brought up extra chairs from the basement.

“What do you keep humming?” Steve asked, running his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“I don’t know, just an ear worm I’ve had all day.”

“It sounds really familiar.”

Bucky sighed. “I know, it’s kinda frustrating that I can’t figure it out.”

“I’m sure it’ll come to you eventually. I know there’s a whole library of music up here,” Steve poked gently at the side of Bucky’s head. Both of their trains of thought were interrupted by the door bell ringing downstairs, and Nat unceremoniously yelling from the kitchen.

“Bucky, can you get it?”

“Yeah.” He called back, then groaned as he rolled up from his horizontal position. He took the stairs two at a time and pulled the front door open. To his surprise, Sam was there with Clint, Tony, and Maria standing behind him all carrying gifts.

“Hey man.”

“What are you guys doing here?” Bucky asked.

“Well, I heard there was dinner,” Tony said.

“Phil invited us all by way of Nat,” Maria added.

“Wow,” Bucky said in awe.

“Are you going to let us in?” Clint asked.

“Yeah, yeah, please.” He stepped aside and let the group funnel in.

Bucky could feel Steve standing behind him, so when the blonde leaned over to whisper, “Are you surprised?” Bucky didn’t jump. Instead, he leaned back into Steve’s chest and nodded. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky and held him for a moment, before Tony called from the other room.

“Are we doing gifts before or after food?”

“Let’s do after,” Phil said, pulling the last pan out of the oven. “Dinner’s done.”

The kitchen counters were covered in various dishes and snack foods all next to four boxes of pizza that Bucky had zero recollection of being delivered. He figured Phil was baking all day by the sheer amount of cookies and brownies still on cooling racks. Peter snuck a chocolate chip cookie before Phil shuttled them all over to the table.

By the end of dinner, both Bucky’s heart and stomach were full.

“Heads up!” Nat said in the living room. A small rectangular package was hurled through the air, and if not for Steve’s quicker reflexes in catching it, it would’ve hit Bucky in the side of the head.

Once everyone was seated and comfortable, he lifted the tape on the outside of the wrapping. He could see the binding of a book, so he looked up at Nat with a puzzled look on his face.

“Go on and open it before you groan about not being a big reader,” she said.

“Tales From the Mos Eisley Cantina,” he read from the cover after unwrapping it the rest of the way. “Wait, a Star Wars book?”

“Yep. They don’t have them at school for some reason, but there’s a whole shelf at the bookstore in downtown.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but now I’m actually excited to read,” he chuckled. “Thank you.”

While Bucky was trying to round up the remains of the wrapping paper, Phil rounded the corner in from the kitchen carrying a cake with candles lit on the top. (If Bucky had to guess, there were seventeen.) They all began to sing an off-key happy birthday tune, which caused a blush to creep up from Bucky’s neck to his cheeks. He blew out all seventeen candles and they cut up the cake.

***

After everyone had gone home for the night, each with a Tupperware full of baked goods, Bucky started the shower. He took his time standing under the warm water, basking in gratitude and his mint shower gel, and finished washing up when his fingertips started to prune.

Laying on the top of his bed with pajamas on he made his third ever instagram post, finishing out the row on his profile. He browsed through his feed while humming that same tune that’s been following him around all day.

“Hey kiddo, can I come in?” Phil asked, knocking softly on the door that was already part way open. Bucky sat up and nodded.

Phil came in holding a manila folder, and took a seat next to Bucky. “I have one last gift for you today.” He handed Bucky the folder. “And it’s okay if you don’t want it, I don’t want you to feel pressured at all, that’s why I’m giving it to you now when it's just us.”

Bucky looked from Phil, down to the envelope. He swallowed hard, anxiety already welling up in his throat from his suspicions over what he thinks is inside. He pulled out the papers, and let his eyes skim over the first few lines.

“Really?” He asked softly.

“Really.” Phil assured.

Bucky read over the page again, and he couldn’t believe it. He kept expecting the words to change, or for there to be a _just kidding_ scrawled along the bottom, but there wasn’t. The title didn’t change. It was real: _Petition to the State of New York for the Adoption of James B. Barnes._

He looked up to Phil again, unable to string together any fragment of coherent thought. “Yes. Please.”

Phil wrapped his arms around Bucky, pulling him in close. “I promised you when you first got here that this would be the last time you would move. I’m making good on that.”

And then it hit him. The song. That Green Gentleman. Things have changed for him, and that’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were so many things I wanted to do in this chapter, but I ended up simplifying it for the sake of wrapping up this part of the story. The next chapter will be the epilogue, and hopefully a somewhat smooth transition into the accompanying pieces that will follow in the future. 
> 
> I only have one specific thing I'd like to bring up about this chapter, and that's the song Bucky's been humming. It's That Green Gentleman by Panic! at the Disco, and the lyric that stuck out to me was this one: "Things have changed for me, and that's okay.  
> I feel the same, I'm on my way," and I feel like that encompasses the his journey.
> 
> To make this a true authors note, I feel like divulging some personal details... I'm actually in the process of applying to transfer to art school! I've decided that I want to study film, so I've been working on applications at universities that are better equipped for creative majors. I'm really excited. These apps have been intense and I've been putting a lot of time in on bulking up my portfolio. 
> 
> When I upload the next chapter, I'll have the this story set up within a collection for the inevitable one shots and sequels that I want to put out. I'll make a note of it in the next update for anyone who has this work bookmarked.
> 
> We're in the home stretch! One more chapter! Here's a big thank you to everyone who's tagged along, I see you and I appreciate you. 
> 
> I hope you all are staying healthy and happy! Leave a comment if you'd like, I've missed all of you.   
> \--Mars


	18. Epilogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wowza, this is it.

“Hey kid, I can help with the tie in the car,” Phil knocked on the bathroom door.

The matinee showing of The Addams Family Musical was finishing up, and as soon as the curtain closed, Bucky made a mad dash backstage to meet Phil, grab his clothes for court, and change. They had small window of time to get up to the city court house, get lunch, and make it back in time for Bucky to do his part backstage at the final showing that night.

“Okay, okay, I’m ready,” he emerged from the room with his jeans and tee thrown over his arm. “Where are—?”

“We’re coming!” Yelena and Nat came running around the corner. “I had a zipper problem with the skirt,” Yelena explained.

“Come on, we’re going to be tight on time,” Phil said.

“Relax Phil, we’ll make it,” Nat replied, looking up from her phone. “GPS says we’ll be there in thirty-eight minutes.”

“Yeah until we hit traffic on Rt. 126 into the city.”

“Eh, we’ll be fine. Just give a little extra love to the gas pedal,” Yelena said.

Bucky leaned over to Nat as they sped walked through the halls. “I’m kind of nervous for her to start driving.”

“You and me both.”

They all sat inside Lola, Bucky and Phil in the front and the girls in the back. The engine roared to life and they set off. During the entirety of what ended up being a forty-five minute jaunt to the city, Bucky stared out the window. The day felt like a dream, and he never wanted to wake up.

The courthouse was larger than Bucky was expecting. Four stories of brick and windows looked down at him when he stepped up the stairs to the front of the building.

“Are you excited?” Nat asked when they stopped inside the hallway.

“Nervous.” He wiped his clammy palm on his pants.

“Don’t be. It’s easy. The judge just asks Sharon some questions, then Phil some questions, then you some questions, sign a few papers, and that’s about it. Oh, and a family photo too.”

The hallway was reasonably crowded for a Saturday afternoon, and in that moment Bucky was grateful for being tall. He spotted Sharon Carter standing up against a column next to double doors that most likely led into a court room.

“Oh my gosh, you look so grown up!” She said, bringing him in for a hug.

“Geez Sharon, it’s only been like a month since I last saw you, and I FaceTimed you last week!” Bucky replied.

“But the hair cut, that’s new.”

“Yeah, I’ve been messing around with it, trying to see what works.” His hair wasn’t much shorter than it had been, however he’s taken to parting it down the middle and letting it do it’s own wavy thing.

“It looks good,” Sharon smiled.

“Thanks.”

“And how are you girls doing?”

“We’re good,” Yelena answered.

“Still dancing?”

“Oh yeah,” Bucky interrupted. “Nat’s gone at the studio almost everyday.”

“But the two of us took today off to be here.”

“That’s great!”

Phil weaved his way through the small gatherings of people and over to the column the four were congregated with some paperwork in hand.“Hey Sharon, thanks for being here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Yeah, it’s not like it’s your job or anything,” Bucky said in a stage whisper.

Sharon laughed. “Maybe so, but still. I’m happy to be here. It’s a big day for you.”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

“And all we have to do it wait. It shouldn’t be too long now.”

A few minutes passed until the bailiff stepped out of a courtroom and called for the Coulson family. Bucky smiled as he stood up.

“We’ll be in the judge’s chambers,” the officer said as they passed through the center aisle of the empty courtroom.

Once they were all settled and seated, the judge began. She was a petite woman with a kind demeanor, who’s hair had a slight wave in it from being in a pony tail, and the name plaque on her desk read _Jenny Hawley_. “It’s always nice to end my work day on a happy case.” She said.

“Phil Coulson, I see that you’ve petitioned for the adoption of James Barnes, is that correct?”

“Yes, your honor.” Phil replied. “I have the petition here.”

“Great,” she reached out to take it and give it a once over. “And I’m sure you remember that adoption is a life-long commitment, and not just until James turns eighteen?”

“Yes, your honor.”

She turned her attention towards Bucky. “James, could you please verify your age for me?”

“I’m seventeen, ma’am.”

“Very good. And I just have a few questions for you.”

“Okay,” he said, rubbing his right thumb over his knuckles.

“Do you like living with Mr. Coulson?”

He looked at Phil, then back to the judge. “Yes, your honor. It’s the best home I’ve ever known.”

“And would you like to be adopted by him?”

He nodded. “Yes. Yes I would.”

“Great,” she smiled.

“Miss Carter, you’ve worked James’s case for a few years now, is that correct.”

“Yes, I’ve been his case manager since he was placed in the state’s care almost three years ago.”

“Okay. I just need to verify, the parental status of George and Winnifred Barnes.” She said after having flipped through the file.

Bucky swallowed at hearing both of his parent’s names.

“George is currently resident in Cayuga Correctional Facility in Moravia, across state. He relinquished parental rights in that June following the initial report and trial.” Sharon said, sparing a side glance at Bucky, meant as a check in. “At the same time, the courts relinquished Winnifred’s parental rights on the grounds of abandonment in the years prior. Attempts for contact have been made by my office over the last few years, however there’s been no response and we’ve had no luck in locating her.”

Nat reached out and placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Very well.” The judge set down all of her paperwork and rested her hands on top of it, and made eye contact with Bucky. “I’m very sorry for the circumstances of your past, however, so long as there are no objections, I’m very happy to confirm this adoption. Congratulations.”

The next thing Bucky knew was that he was on his feet for a photo, and then he was being hugged from all directions. Phil from the front, and the girls on either side of him. This was his family, and he could feel it. The concreteness of it all. He knew for sure that this was where he belonged.

Over Phil’s shoulder, he saw Sharon give him a small wave before stepping out quietly.

“Mr. Coulson,” the judge said. “Whenever you’re ready, all that’s left to do is take this sheet down to the registrar.”

The four broke apart and Phil took the page. After thanking the judge, they walked through the still-empty courtroom and past the bailiff from before, and back out into the hall.

“Are you guys good to hang out while I run this form upstairs?”

“Yeah, we’ll be good,” Bucky said, looking around. “Text me when you’re ready to go, I’m going to see if I can find Sharon.”

The early-afternoon crowd that had clogged up the hall before their meeting had since dispersed and Bucky was able to spot Sharon standing near the doors. He nonchalantly stood beside her.

“This is the best part of my job, you know?” She asked, taking notice of him.

Bucky shrugged. “Did you know what was going to happen, when you took me to Phil’s?”

“Not for sure, but I always hope that things work out for the best.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Sharon, thank you for everything you’ve done for me the last few years. You’ve really changed my life.”

Phil and the girls approached Sharon and Bucky, where she said goodbye.

“You can always text or call if you need anything, okay?” She told Bucky when she pulled him in for a hug.

“I know.”

They stepped apart and outside. The four watched Sharon get in her car and drive away, but didn’t move towards Lola yet.

“So, what do we do now?” Bucky asked.

“Whatever we do, we need to get going. Don’t want you to be late for tonight’s showing,” Phil said.

Bucky chuckled, then mumbled under his breath, “It’s family first and family last, and family by and by.”

“How is it that you’re in the crew and know all the lyrics to that musical?” Yelena asked.

“What can I say, it’s catchy. Now let’s get some lunch, I’m starving.”

“Whatever you say, Lurch,” Nat joked.

“Haha, very funny,” he returned dryly.

***

After lunch and as they neared school again, Bucky turned in his seat. The radio was turned loud, and both Nat and Yelena were singing along in the back seat, and Phil had both hands on the steering wheel, tapping out the rhythm. He watched them and smiled, before turning forward again seeing the road laid out in front of him.

A road he no longer had to travel alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this leg of the story is done. I've been working on this fic for about a year now, and I'm so grateful for everyone who has stuck around for it. Don't worry, this is not the end of this universe! I have a few supplemental stories planned, so I've made this a part of a series for anyone who'd like to bookmark it. 
> 
> There's not much I wanted to say specifically in regards to this chapter, except that there may be a few inaccuracies as far as the court scene goes. I've never gone through an adoption, so what I've written is from things I've pieced together while reading. Also, the Addams Family was the last musical I was in! In as in, played in the orchestra for, but regardless, it was really good and really funny.
> 
> I also have some good news! I've already heard back from one of the art schools I've applied to, and I got in! I"m still waiting to hear back on two others, so fingers crossed.
> 
> If you're a writer, please drop your fic titles below! I'd love to read your work and support you in the same way you've supported me over this last year.
> 
> Find me on twitter or tumblr: @margots0dyssey  
> and on Spotify to browse my playlists: @chickensoupforthemusic  
> There is a playlist for this story! If I can figure out how to put active links in the notes, I will edit that asap. :)
> 
> I super appreciate every single one of you. I hope you are all staying safe and healthy.  
> Hugs! -Margot


End file.
